In the Arms of the Wicked
by paranoid woman
Summary: COMPLETE. Last chapter, "How to heal"- It was Ian's time to heal. SUMMARY: As Ian deals with an unbearable archeologist and Don saves the team, Colby and Charlie work on their relationship. Set after "Holding on to a lie." SLASH, Charlie/Colby, Ian/OMC.
1. Backup

**Title:** "Backup"

**Series: **_In the Arms of the Wicked_, Part 1/?

**Characters:** Charlie/Colby, Don, David, mention of other characters and OMC.

**Rating:** M.

**Spoilers:** None.

**Warnings:** None.

**Summary:** During hard times, we all need backup - for better or for worse.

**Feedback:** I love it!  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything except my OMC.

**Beta:** Thanks to my amazing beta.

**A/N:** This series takes place after "Holding on to a lie," written by me. :)

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**In the Arms of the Wicked**

**Part 1: "Backup"  
**

"_I can fix it… I swear I can… I can make it go away, I can erase what happened, I promise I'll do anything that'll make you feel better…"  
_

_Wherever Charlie turned around, the image of a broken man in the corner of the room appeared in front of his eyes._

_Charlie couldn't run. He couldn't escape. He had to make himself responsible for his pain._

_But before he could make the first step, the walls of the room disappeared and the teary eyes of the man met Charlie's. Water started to fill the room, displacing every tiny mass of air._

"_No… Colby, please…" Charlie said as salty water dampened his clothes, and he tried to reach for the other man, to catch him before a tragedy happened…_

_Finally, there was no more air, no more space in which to breathe. Desperate, he swam towards Colby, who wasn't trying to save himself – his eyes staring at Charlie, blinking._

_Until they stopped._

_Charlie screamed under the water, bubbles blocking his view. _

_There was no time and no hope._

"Colby…"

"Charlie."

"Please, don't… Stay with me, reach for my hand…"

"Charlie."

A hand on his arm made Charlie wake up. His eyes were full of tears and the feeling of losing his lover was still alive, making his heart ache heavily.

He rubbed his eyes, stressed and tired from what he had seen when he was sleeping. Then he heard Don's voice again.

"Buddy, are you ok?"

Charlie just stared at his brother, recognized his worried expression and his need to help. Then he looked around; he was at the coffee table, which was full of papers filled with numbers; he had been keeping his mind busy in his brother's apartment. The house had been abandoned for a few days after it had been included as crime scene in Amita's case file.

He ran his palms over his face, trying to release some stress before speaking. "Yeah… I'm sorry I scared you."

"You had a nightmare about… Colby?" Don asked. It seemed that he was being careful not to push a sensitive button.

As he took a deep breath, Charlie realized that he didn't know if he wanted to talk about his dream or not. But he was sure he wanted the horrible feelings to go away.

"C'mon, sit on the couch, take a break. You've been working on those equations since I left to the hospital. I'll get you a beer."

As he watched Don get into the kitchen, Charlie remembered that his father was still at the hospital. He was glad there were good doctors there...

Doctors who had discovered, three days ago, that Amita was pregnant.

Maybe relaxing was a good idea, after all. Charlie sat on the couch, resting his hands on his legs, and waited. Even if it had been a few days since his kidnapping had ended, he still felt so exhausted. His body didn't want to respond to most of his brain's commands.

He was thankful to see his brother coming back from the kitchen soon, holding two beers. "Here you go," Don said, handing one to him.

"Thanks."

Don sat on another couch in front of him and sipped his beer. "Do you want to talk about it - I mean, the nightmare?"

"I don't know," Charlie said, staring at his bottle, hoping Don would understand that the real, implicit answer was "No."

"Ok." His brother muttered, and spent a moment in silence before continuing. "So, is Larry getting that replacement he's been talking about or what?"

It was evident that Don was trying to change the subject to make Charlie's mind get away from the madness of the last days. It was all he had been doing since Ian and David had put Amita's insanity to an end. So Charlie answered, "I'm not sure, but I think he will."

"What's the guy's name again?"

"Dr. Christopher Farrow."

"Yeah, I remember now… You know, I never, ever expected to relate Larry to the tabloids."

Charlie didn't expect to find that comment irresistibly funny, but he did, and he laughed about it. It amazed him how he was able to find entertainment in words while his heart and his mind felt about to die. "The tabloids are just a tiny part of Dr. Farrow's life, he's a professional."

"Have you met him?"

"No, but Larry's told me a lot about him. I'm sure the real person will be different than the one I imagine, but it'll be a pleasure to have him at CalSci. He's well-known in his field."

"And… the _tabloids_," Don added, the corner of his mouth curving into a witty smile.

"Yeah, right, that will be a huge change," Charlie answered, mimicking Don's expression. "Speaking of which, would you mind if I ask you how David is? I mean, he and Amita… they could be having a baby," he continued, and he had to swallow because every idea on that matter that went through his mind was disturbing and it hurt so much. "But of course, it could be mine, or even Berenson's."

Don's silence made him feel even more awkward that he already felt, and for a moment, getting up and escaping seemed to be best solution. But when Charlie got up, Don did the same; he even put a hand on his younger brother's shoulder...

But that kind of support wasn't enough anymore, and Don seemed to know it. Charlie could tell when he was embraced by warm arms, protecting him.

"I'm so sorry, Charlie. I really am." Those were Don's first words. "If there's anything I can do for you, you know you can count on me."

"Mmhm…" Unexpectedly, Charlie only wanted to cry. He and Don didn't hold each other frequently. They knew they loved each other and that they would always be together as family, but physical proofs of affection weren't something they were used to.

Don's arms tightened around him, becoming a shield that would keep him safe from harm whenever he could, and even when he couldn't. "It's OK. Breathe."

It took Charlie a minute to recover a tiny part of his soul from the bad feelings of having his world turned upside down. The worst part was that bad memories couldn't be erased, as the consequences of them would be with him forever.

When Don let go and they both sat down again, he tried to organize his thoughts about the new life that was waiting for everybody to live it. "How's…?"

"Amita?"

"Yeah…" It was better that Don said it; just pronouncing her name was a deeply painful experience for Charlie.

"As she's attacked two FBI agents, a DOJ psychiatrist and the family of another agent, one of the relatives being an important consultant…" Don swallowed as he continued. "She'll have to stay in the country until a judge determines her mental state. If she's declared not to be in her senses, her parents will ask to be able to take her to India."

"I see." There was something horrible about that possibility.

But again, Don _knew_. "We'll find a way for you, or David or whoever's the father of that child to be able to see him or her, alright? I promise we will."

"But how are they going to analyze her case? Part of the files disappeared right after Ian…" The image of the sniper shooting Amita while David had her against the wall, crying and yelling in desperation, was too much for Charlie to continue that sentence. "I mean, if someone inside the FBI is willing to erase evidence, then what guarantees do we have left?"

Don was unexpectedly silent; Charlie just assumed that he was wondering who could have done such things against the rules. "I guess… none," his brother muttered. "But hey, look at our jobs, look at what's happened. There's no guarantee of anything at all… there's only control over your actions, Charlie."

That response was a little bit hard, but it was filled with truth. The only thing Charlie could do was decide what his next step would be. "You know, in the nightmare I just had," he confessed, and he saw Don nodding, willing to listen. "I was in my room, at the house and Colby was everywhere I went. Then there was water all around us, we were drowning, and he didn't swim. He didn't swim… and I couldn't save him."

Thoughtful, Don frowned and asked, "OK. Maybe that means you want to help him…"

"I know that these dreams are supposed to tell me something that I'm not aware of." Charlie's nightmare about Colby felt like an echo of the time he had seen his beloved mother in his dreams. "But this time, I _already _know that he's going to leave me."

"What? No, Charlie. I'm sure he's not."

"He is, because I'm not able to help him. Why wouldn't he, anyway?"

Leaning his back on the couch, Don raised his hands. "Alright then, if that's what you want to believe right now. But that's not true and you know it," he said. "As weird as it sounds, I've seen it in his eyes when you guys talk. And I've seen it in yours, too."

Both brothers shared a long moment, in which they simply stared at each other in silence. Then Don left his beer on the coffee table and got up.

"You're leaving already?" Charlie asked as he watched him grab his jacket.

"Yeah, I gotta go check on David, he hasn't been answering his phone. I just came home to grab a beer and talk to my little brother about life for a while…" Don answered, a crooked smile spreading over his lips.

Again, Charlie smiled as a reflection of him. "Well… I think I'm not that little anymore, Don."

Don snorted as he put on his jacket. "That's right. See you in a couple of hours."

When the door was closed behind his brother, Charlie told himself that he'd go to see his father at the hospital because they would certainly enjoy each other's company and support. Family was the fundamental part of his life right now.

And then there was Colby - Charlie just hoped they could manage to survive the uncertainty of the chaos they'd see from now on every time they looked ahead.

**XxX**

The bottle of vodka wasn't empty yet; David kept drinking it slowly as if it was merely an innocent beer. It had been a few weeks since he had been found at his apartment, almost unconscious from the alcohol.

But now Colby finally understood it all.

Both friends were seated on the floor around David's coffee table, not speaking. Sometimes their eyes were fixed on each other; occasionally, there was something they want to tell, something they wanted to share, but it always ended up hanging in the air, not really being put into the right words.

The apartment's bell rang a few times, and none of them moved. Colby knew that his body wouldn't react when he asked it to walk to the door.

Don's voice came out of nowhere, but none of them responded; it was only the voice mail of David's phone.

"Hey, David… I'm outside, could you let me in if you're there? If you have a minute, I'd like to know how you're doing and if you've thought about attending that appointment with Megan or something," their boss explained.

"Are you going to get that?" Colby finally asked, worried about his friend, even through the state of not caring about anything at the moment. When David kept sipping his vodka, he knew the answer and even agreed with his decision.

But Don's message wasn't over yet. "I'd also like to discuss… you know what… but it seems you're not there, so I guess we'll talk some other time. Just remember that my offer still stands."

"What offer?" Don's words had been a little bit odd, and Colby had to ask about it, but David didn't pay attention to him.

The sound of the bell being pressed over and over again filled the silence of shame of understanding that surrounded the apartment. It finally stopped, making the lack of noise even more noticeable.

David slid the bottle of vodka over the coffee table, but Colby refused to accept it. "I don't drink…"

The bottle stopped in the middle of its little trip. David was a considerate friend, he'd never force Colby to do something he didn't want to.

But that clear, strong liquid looked very promising right now.

_What the hell._

Colby's fingers reached for the bottle and this time he didn't care about the possible consequences.

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_**A/N: FEEDBACK IS LOVE.**_


	2. The India case

**Title:** "The India Case"

**Series: **_In the Arms of the Wicked_, Part 2/?

**Characters:** Colby/Charlie, Don, Megan/Larry, Ian, David.

**Rating:** M.

**Spoilers:** None.

**Warnings:** None.

**Summary:** There are memories David, Colby, Megan and Ian can't let go.

**Feedback:** I love it!  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything except my OMC.

**Beta:** Thanks to my amazing beta.

**A/N:** This series takes place after "Holding on to a lie," written by me. :)

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

**In the Arms of the Wicked**

**Part 2: "The India case"  
**

The first traces of light bathed Colby's body as he awkwardly opened his eyes. He saw David's apartment, David's coffee table, and then he realized that after a night of heavy drinking, he hadn't gone back home.

"I hate her, you know? It's so ridiculous that at the same time I feel sorry for her, somehow." David's voice came out of nowhere, a rough sound so close to Colby – their heads resting on the coffee table, facing away from each other, two bottles of vodka on the floor, a strong smell of alcohol filling the atmosphere.

"It's not weird," was all Colby could say as he tried to recover his equilibrium. "I mean, she forced you to…" He just couldn't complete the sentence.

"She could be carrying my son… or my daughter."

"Well…"

"A little half black, half Indian kid… born from a rape."

Not really knowing what to answer, Colby swallowed and remained silent. Nothing he could do would put the clock back. He had to face up to the fact that changes were coming, for David and for him.

Slowly, feeling the guilt burning his insides, Colby turned to David but still kept his head resting on the table. The window was open and the sunshine was beautiful, inviting people to enjoy its warmth and energy.

But of course, only the ones who had normal lives would respond to that call.

Almost everyone seemed set to lose their faith soon. How could things go back to normal after the India case? Because that was the new code - since Amita had been taken into a well-known psychiatric centre and her parents had said that they wanted to take her to India, almost everyone had found a new way to describe the damage she had done, as saying her name brought too painful memories back.

It was probably nonsense, because everyone who was involved in the case was either an FBI agent of a scientist. They were used to seeing these kinds of crime – rape and torture coming from obsessive behavior, but this time it had hit too close to home. It had hit_ them_.

Colby lifted his head off the table and leaned his back on the side of the couch. The hangover was hard to bear and he had no idea what he wanted to do next.

The ringtone of his cell phone caught him unawares. Blinking over and over again, running his hands over his hair, he looked at the Caller ID and refused to respond. Even if there was a new case, he felt that for once he had to take care of himself and not others.

"Charlie?" David asked, still not looking at his partner.

"Don."

"Same thing."

"I don't think so."

"Still, you didn't answer."

"I don't feel like talking to him right now. You should understand that, since you didn't answer the door when he came here last night and you avoided me for about a month."

This time David turned to look at Colby and said, "That's different. In your case, it's not that bad, man."

"No, it's…"

"Colby, man, you can't hide it from me. I know you too well and it's too obvious anyway."

David was actually right, which was annoying, but it would be worse to keep things from his best friend, and besides, Colby didn't have enough energy left to lie. "Yeah…"

"You haven't talked to Charlie or Don in the last two days, and you should."

"I don't want to."

"I know all about the shame you're feeling right now," David stated, "but trust me, being touched the way she touched you is nothing compared to…" His voice faded as he continued, then he stopped. His point had already been made, so Colby didn't see any need to explain more.

He didn't say anything; he just lowered his gaze, fixing it on the empty bottles of vodka.

But apparently, David wasn't done yet. "There is no reason for you to abandon what you just started with Charlie. There is no reason at all."

They stared at each other for a moment, but Colby disagreed. "Maybe there isn't, but there's something we all need for now… Time."

David tilted his head to the side, then looked at the sun that was outside the window. "Yeah, _time_… I just wish that could actually help…"

**XxX**

Tired, Megan ran her hands through her messy hair as she opened the letters that had arrived that morning. Mail was alright, it was predictable and common and the bad news it could bring was nothing compared to what had happened during the last few days.

So when someone rang the bell, she could feel her heart pounding hard inside her chest. The threat of a new reason to fall apart was present in every moment of her life, as it had been a part of it for a long time in the past.

But it wasn't more bad news. It was Larry, and he was always lovely company.

"Hey," she greeted him, smiling. "I didn't expect you to come so early."

"I can come back later if it works better for you," he said, looking worried that she wasn't in the mood to let him come in. He was starting to walk away, limping on his sprained ankle, when she stopped him

"No, it's OK, I've just made some tea. Please, stay. Let me offer you a cup."

Larry seemed to be reluctant to believe her words, but she guided him into her house and asked him to sit at the kitchen table. It was still very early and the sun was just starting to rise in the sky.

After taking the tea pot to the table, she went to get the cups. The delivery cards she had stuck to the fridge caught her eye. "Would you like to stay and have lunch with me? We could call for some food," she said, aware that it was her free day.

"If that's OK with you, then…"

"Great." She took a look at the cards and a couple of them caught her attention. "What about Chinese?" she suggested. "Or maybe some Indian…?" But Megan soon realized what she had said, and corrected herself. "No, I guess not."

"It's not white," Larry replied, and when Megan turned around, she found him shrugging and smiling at her with sorrow.

"You're right, it's not." Step by step, Megan walked over to him and kissed him softly. She could feel a hesitation as their lips joined, but she knew what that meant, and she didn't feel like discussing it.

Unless Larry brought up the issue.

"You're been quietly different these last few days," he muttered shyly, close to her mouth.

She looked into his eyes, saw his questions in them and quickly turned around. Going to get the tea cups was a good excuse not to show how much Larry's comment had affected her.

Holding up wasn't easy, but she had done it for months now and a couple more minutes wouldn't make a difference.

"Yeah. It's just that my work at the DOJ was full of… uncertainties. Rules didn't apply to most cases; people did pretty much whatever they wanted."

"I can understand that. National security is a priority and powerful leaders tend to try to keep control over sources of information in environments where law and ethics are the exception," Larry responded, joining his hands.

Megan had always loved his insight. It might be a little awkward, it could even sound crazy sometimes, but she was sure that it was full of rationality and deep thought. So she finally faced her lover and said, "You're right. I've seen many kinds of torture take place in front of my eyes, Larry," she explained, and she ran her hands through her messy hair. "Some cases… They're not easy to forget."

Taking a deep breath, he nodded. "I take it that there is a reminder of it in the last events and that is keeping you from finding peace of mind."

Listening to his conclusions, Megan's heart ached with memories of the past. Yet, she felt touched by Larry's unusual, caring character and she couldn't restrain a small smile. Nodding, she took the tea cups, sat at the table and arranged them.

"Maybe our talks can help me find it again," she muttered as she poured tea into the cups and smiled at her lover. It was sweet to see Larry blush for a moment. "So, tell me more about Dr. Farrow. Is he really that interesting?"

"Oh, yes. Believe me, he might have a heterodox approach to science, but his mind is a genuine cradle of all kinds of highly valuable knowledge."

"So you think he'll be able to manage your classes when you need to rest?"

Excited, Larry took the cup of tea she offered him. "There's no doubt in my mind he'll do an excellent job. I will most definitely miss giving my lectures from time to time, but for some reason, I think students will be glad of the change of perspective on that subject."

It was well-known that Larry's students got bored with his lessons because they didn't understand his endless speeches about stars, galaxies and the mystery of man kind's existence, but they didn't know him the way Megan did. "Oh, don't say that, Larry. I'm sure they'll miss you."

"If they wouldn't, I'd completely understand," he replied, waving his hands in the air. "It's not every day that you get to work with someone like Christopher. He's a very busy man, he's involved in several projects at the same time, and his life is intensely filled with studies that deal with interconnected fields."

As usual, Megan could see that spark in his eyes, the one that meant that he was about to let his mind go and express itself freely. She took her cup of tea and sipped it as she admired the way he was able to keep her attention with every single word he said.

Larry looked at her, a little smile in the corner of his mouth making her feel at home. "You know, once he and I worked on an analysis about the knowledge of Physics and Chemistry the oldest and most advanced civilizations served of…"

**XxX**

No resting, no sleeping for Ian Edgerton.

A glass of red wine sometimes turned into a nice memory. Today, it wasn't that at all.

This morning, it was the reminiscence of the torture Ian's mind had been through many years ago.

Seated on a chair in his apartment, he carefully swirled the glass of Cabernet Sauvignon and thoughtfully watched the liquid move in tiny, irregular waves.

Marah used to know so much about wine. She used to know _everything_.

If he could only talk to her again…

Ian drowned in the memories of her beautiful face, the melody of her honest laugh, and the simplicity of the clothes she always wore.

He reached for his cell phone when he heard an incoming call. "Edgerton," he said, still swirling the glass of wine. "Ancient art… Yeah, of course I'm interested. I'll take care of it with Eppes' team."

Without saying goodbye, he closed his phone and let it rest on the table. He drank the wine and put the glass beside his cell phone.

Marah.

He had to stop thinking about her, about his own mistakes. But every time he seemed to be ready to let the past go, _it _came back.

Shaking his head, he got up and went to grab a jacket from his closet. He picked a leather one, put it on and came back to the little dining room. Sometimes, the job overwhelmed him. What did it mean to be the best fourth sniper in the country? It wasn't like that would open the gates of Heaven to enable him to bring Marah back to Earth.

There was something inside the jacket pocket… No, not _again_…

Ian pulled it out and took a deep breath. He should have seen this coming.

Memories flooded back, attached to the old picture in his hands, her face coming to life inside his brain again. Wherever he put it, trying to lose it, he found it somehow. A photograph that refused to go away; one that didn't want to let Ian go.

He tried to tear it into pieces and throw it into the trash, but at the last moment, as always, he had second thoughts.

He just couldn't do it. He wasn't ready yet, no matter how much he tried to convince himself he was.

So he ended up keeping it again, now stowed in one of the drawers of his sideboard. He said goodbye to it, just like he did every time he came across the picture, hoping that someday it would magically disappear without him having to do anything.

It really didn't make sense to try to lose it, as the photo itself and the echo of the past would return eventually, every time he tried to erase them from his life.

Now the memory was all around him, brought back by what everyone called the damn India case.

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_**A/N: FEEDBACK IS LOVE.**_


	3. Defiant

**Title:** "Defiant"

**Series: **_In the Arms of the Wicked_, Part 3/?

**Characters:** Ian/OMC, Don, Charlie/Colby, Larry, Alan.

**Rating:** M.

**Spoilers:** None.

**Warnings:** None.

**Summary:** Ian got the feeling that Dr. Farrow was going to give him a hard time.

**Feedback:** I love it!  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything except my OMC.

**Beta:** Thanks to my amazing beta and special thanks to authors and personal friends Lily G and harknessgirl, who helped me so much when it comes to this chapter. Love you, girls.

**A/N:** This series takes place after "Holding on to a lie," written by me. :)

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

**In the Arms of the Wicked**

**Part 3: "Defiant"  
**

"Are you sure you'll be all right?" Charlie asked his father, after they had spent a long time in silence in his hospital room.

"Yeah, the doctors want to keep an eye on me for a few more days, since I still have trouble… remembering things." Frowning, Alan looked around. "Now, where the hell are my glasses, again?" He certainly looked frustrated by the situation; which wasn't strange, as he had always been a very active man.

"Hey," Don muttered, deliberately making an entrance to disguise the fact that he had been eavesdropping.

His brother turned to him and smiled, with the intention of comforting their father. "I thought you'd be here. You didn't come home last night."

"Neither did you," Charlie replied.

Of course, he knew about Don driving to David's apartment last night, though not about the results of that encounter. And Don didn't want to discuss that now, with his father in the same room. Alan needed some peace of mind to get better.

"How are you, Dad?" he said, changing the subject.

"Displeased with the fact that my mind doesn't want to cooperate with me leaving this hospital."

"All right, we'll work on that. Look, here are your glasses." Trying to fake a big smile, Don handed the glasses to his father and watched him stare at them.

"I hope this doesn't last for too long," Alan muttered, visibly annoyed.

"We hope so, too…"

"Very funny, Don, making fun of your father like that…"

Don cocked his head, laughing for a moment. "Nah, Dad, you know that's not what I meant."

Alan took a deed breath and nodded. "I know. I just can't stand being in this bed anymore and not being able to function like a normal human being." He put on his glasses and picked up a newspaper from a chair by the bed. "I guess you have a new case?"

"Yeah, but I want to see how you're doing first, so..."

Unsurprisingly, Alan gave Don a look full of wisdom from behind his newspaper. "I'm _OK_, now go."

Don remained unconvinced. His father didn't appear very calm at the moment. "Are you absolutely sure of that?"

"It's nice of you to worry about me but I'm a grown man and I can take care of myself, thank you very much."

"OK…" Don muttered.

"Are you really sure that…?" Charlie started to say.

"_Yes_, I am," Alan responded, shaking his head. His voice sounded a little bit offended. "Take care, you two, do you understand me?"

"_Yes, _Dad," both brothers said in unison as they left the room.

As they walked through the corridors, Don couldn't stop himself commenting, "He says adults like him are perfectly capable of taking care of themselves, and yet he treats us like we're still eight sometimes." He laughed when Charlie suddenly broke into a big smile. "He's still worried about us thinking he's too old, isn't he?"

"Yep," his brother muttered as they walked out the hospital. "Are we going to the FBI?"

"Depends on whether we need Larry to help us with the case…"

"What is it about?"

They stopped beside Don's car, and while Don looked for the keys, he gave Charlie a general overview of the situation. "Several pieces of ancient art were found buried in the backyard of a house. We thought that maybe you could give us some numbers on that…"

"I could, but we're gonna need to go to CalSci. Trust me, Larry's worked with Dr. Farrow and he's developed a passion for ancient civilizations, so he could help, too."

"All right. CalSci it is, then." In a few seconds, Don had already started the engine.

The trip to the university wasn't a comfortable one. From the moment they drove off, Don knew that there were questions hanging in the air. It was OK for a while, but after hearing Charlie take several deep breathes as if something was bothering him, Don decided to just say it. "I went to David's apartment last night."

"And?"

"He wasn't there."

Bullshit. Don was sure David was home but hadn't wanted to let him in. It wouldn't be a surprise because, after all, his agent had been avoiding his boss during the last few days. Same thing with Colby.

And that's why Don knew which the question Charlie really wanted to ask was. "I don't know anything about Colby, either."

Charlie's face suddenly looked very disappointed and Don felt the urge to make him feel better. "Things like these take time, Charlie. But I know that eventually, everything will go back to normal again, OK?"

His little brother's silence worried him, and he spent the rest of the trip glancing at Charlie, trying to figure out how he really felt.

Don knew him too well – this wasn't Charlie making numbers inside his head. It was Charlie giving up on them and trying to figure out a way to end the living hell Amita had put him and Colby through.

He just hoped that the new case could contribute to bringing everyone together again and giving them a new opportunity to move on with their lives.

**XxX**

After so many years, it was had become easier for Ian to be the best in his field even while pushing away the memories of Marah. He had learned to live with all his regrets, even if there were some moments when he allowed his frustrations to show.

One of those moments had taken place right after he had shot Amita at the Eppes' house, but he'd known no one would dare to ask him about his sudden departure – he knew all too well how to make people respect him and be afraid of him.

"Professor… Don…" Ian greeted the Eppes brothers as he entered Charlie's office. He shook their hands and looked around. There were several maps and books on the desk. "I see you're catching up with the case."

"Yeah, we've been making some progress, but not that much. It'll take time, as I'm not an expert on this matter," Charlie explained. "I wanted to ask Larry to help us, since he's very much into this kind of analysis, but he wasn't here when we arrived."

Don walked over the desk and started looking at the maps. "I called Megan a while ago, she was with him at her house. He's on his way here."

"Good," Ian said. He liked the efficiency of the Eppes brothers very much. "Can we start this without him? I don't want to waste time."

"Yeah, we can…"

Someone came in the room limping and carrying a large pile of books, so Ian helped gave him a hand and helped him put them on the desk, right beside the maps and the other sources of information. Ian was glad that the Larry was finally there, even if he had an awkward way of introducing himself.

"Agent Edgerton, always a pleasure," the physicist greeted him.

"Good to see you, Professor Fleinhardt." They shook hands and soon everyone was around the table, pointing at different streets on one of the maps. "The pieces were found in the backyard of a guy named Stanley Hopkins. They seem to be Egyptian or something like that," the sniper explained.

"Could they be genuine?" Don asked.

"Yeah. No fakes here, although they're a little affected by being buried for at least two weeks." Ian took out several pictures and put them on the table. As soon as he did so, Charlie started writing equations in a piece of paper.

"The pressure of the ground seems to have caused a deep impact on the sharp edges, but not enough to make the pieces lose their original shape - I assume that whoever put them underground used some kind of material for protection?"

Ian nodded thoughtfully. "Lots of expanded semi-rigid polystyrene."

"Effective enough to keep these statues in a good state, but not enough to keep them intact," Larry added. "Maybe the new physics professor would be able to bring some light to our minds anyway, I'm passionate about this kind of ancient art but this is not really my field."

After hearing that, Ian spontaneously asked, "Does that mean you've got a replacement, Dr. Fleinhardt?

"Not quite accurately, but it's very similar. The Director of the Physics department has approved the arrival of a certain distinguished gentleman who also happens to be a good friend of mine. He will be giving some lectures on the days I decide to take some time to recover from my new disability." Awkwardly, Larry pointed at his sprained ankle.

"Sounds interesting. Who is he?"

"Dr. Christopher Farrow."

Charlie smiled when he heard the name. "From what I've heard from Larry, he's really good at what he does."

"He certainly has made some very appealing contributions to various fields such as Psychology and Physics, but mostly Archeology," Larry continued.

"It'll be a good opportunity for CalSci to get more students, apparently. He always appears in the tabloids," Don added.

Everyone seemed to think the idea was appealing, but to Ian, it was exactly the opposite. He had some fresh memories about Dr. Farrow and they still disturbed him. "Wait. Are we talking about the same guy, that millionaire that was involved in a big, public scandal about an affair and a dead man down the stairs?"

There was absolute silent, all eyes on Ian.

"Hey, it was all over the news and it was tied to a case, it was impossible not to hear about it," he excused himself.

"He was found to be innocent. He's clean," Charlie replied.

That wasn't the point at all. "I know, but the thing is - is it smart for CalSci to hire a person who has such a still non-defined, dirty background?"

Charlie was about to respond when a low voice said, "And here was I thinking people considered me an intriguing character of society."

When Ian turned around, he saw the same guy he had seen on the news a few months ago, with a slightly different look. Dr. Christopher Farrow was a thirty-year-old man; blue eyes, good hair similar to Charlie's, but not curly…

And he was so damn confident – sarcastic, mysterious… in fact, almost unbearable, just like his appearances on TV and magazines.

Ian got the feeling that this man was definitely going to give him a hard time.

"Christopher," Larry said, going towards his friend and shaking his hand avidly, as a smile spread over his face.

"Larry," Dr. Farrow said as he greeted the physicist. "How's the life of the wounded treating you?"

"Not the way I expected, but it's given me some time to dedicate myself to contemplate the changes of a life because of a mild event, such as spraining an ankle."

"Are you using crutches?"

"I should, but I've realized that the limping contributes to my train of thought."

"All right then, if that helps you." Incredibly, Dr. Farrow seemed to take Larry's words very seriously and even agree with them.

"Oh, this is Professor Charles Eppes…"

"It's such a pleasure to meet you," Dr. Farrow said, as he shook Charlie's hand. "I saw that report about you in a magazine once… An extraordinary mind, devoted to fighting crime along with his brother, the FBI agent… It was fascinating. Very epic, like ancient mythology. I like it."

"Well, I never saw it that way, but thank you," Charlie responded. "It's an honor to have you here at CalSci."

"No, no, please. It's an honor to be welcome here, trust me. I never thought they'd let me work in this university, given the kind of life I have. And I suppose this is your brother."

"Don Eppes, nice to meet you," Don introduced himself, shaking Dr. Farrow's hand, too.

Larry took the lead again. "And this is Ian Edgerton, the fourth best sniper in the country."

This time, Dr. Farrow didn't smile. He stared at Ian, and Ian stared back at him, using his best technique to appear extremely serious and scary.

"I understand that you don't like me being here because of the public scandal?" the archeologist asked.

Ian smiled with confidence, his hands on his hips as he took a step forward. He noticed how Dr. Farrow surprisingly mimicked his posture. "Hey, what this university does doesn't concern me. As far as I know, you're free to do whatever you want, as long as you don't cause any trouble."

Dr. Farrow took a moment before answering, as he walked towards him. Apparently, he wasn't scared at all. It seemed that he was about to give a long response, but then, without taking his eyes off Ian, he defiantly said, "OK."

_Don't even dare to think about standing up to me._ "OK," Ian repeated.

Their words hung in the air, coupled with the tension occasioned by their short exchange of words.

"Agent Edgerton is helping us out with a case that has just arisen," Larry kept saying, as if he had noticed the awkwardness of the situation.

"Then I better leave. I know you need your private space to discuss theories about harassing and murder weapons." Very quickly, Dr. Farrow went towards the door.

"No, wait, we could make a good use of your expertise, Dr.," Don rapidly reacted.

"Don't I need a security clearance for that?"

"Yeah, that's why we'll get you one. But for now, please, stay."

Taking a deep breath, Dr. Farrow turned around and entwined his fingers together. He watched the people around the desk as if he was analyzing them, but his eyes seemed to focus on Ian a little bit longer than in everyone else. And finally he said, "Fine, how can I help you?"

When he approached the desk and the case was explained to him, he took a look at the pictures that were displayed in front of him and he suddenly seemed to be almost out of words. "I can't believe… These statues are very famous. They belong to the Egyptian Museum in Cairo."

"What?" Don snapped. "Why didn't we know that?"

"They were recently discovered, a month or so ago. Experts need time to work on every single piece until it's fully recovered, then classify it and find the best place to keep it. It takes a long time to do that and only when they've finished their job do they announce the discovery of the new attraction."

"I bet we're going to see someone from that museum soon," Don said as he took out his cell phone, dialed a number and went to the corner of the room to get some space.

"He's right. They're not going to let this go, this is a treasure." With a fascinated look on his face, Dr. Farrow kept analyzing the pictures Ian had brought.

But Ian had his eyes fixed on him, too. _He was too involved in that case that hit the news. There's something about him and I'm going to find out what it is._

In that moment, Charlie was absorbed in new theories. "Maybe if we study the water absorbency of the ground, we could figure out…"

The sniper wasn't really listening to him. Dr. Farrow had all his attention. There were too many ways for a guy like him to break the law and get away with it by using all his money. _Too many ways for him to be guilty._

"Ah, it seems that this is just the beginning of so much research…" Larry muttered as she shook his head and his smile crooked in excitement.

As Ian watched closely each one of Dr. Farrow's moves, he couldn't agree more.

_There __is going to be a lot of research, indeed._

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

_**A/N: FEEDBACK IS LOVE.**_


	4. Crime Trail

**Title:** "Crime Trail"

**Series: **_In the Arms of the Wicked_, Part 4/?

**Characters:** Colby/Charlie, Ian/OMC, Don, David, Larry, Megan, ???.

**Rating:** M.

**Spoilers:** Season 5.

**Warnings:** None.

**Summary:** As Dr. Farrow starts causing trouble, Don finds out that the India case is not over yet.

**Feedback:** I love it!  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything except my OMC.

**Beta:** Thanks to my amazing beta.

**A/N:** This series takes place after "Holding on to a lie," written by me. :)

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

**In the Arms of the Wicked**

**Part 4****: "Crime Trail"  
**

After the India case, walking into Charlie's office at CalSci was nothing like it used to be. It used to be exciting, breath-taking, heart beating hard. Now it was uncomfortable and weird and it didn't feel exactly good.

Colby stopped right beside his lover's door and didn't take another step forward until David passed him by.

"You agreed to come; now fix things with Charlie, will you?" his partner said before entering the office.

Astonished by David's attitude, flashes of the previous two hours came to Colby's mind. He'd had an uncomfortable conversation with his friend a while ago…

"_Hey, did you get Don's call?" David had asked Colby as they'd thrown the empty bottles of vodka to the trash._

"_Yeah."_

"_So you're answering your phone again, I'm glad."  
_

"_It could be a case."_

"_You didn't get the boss' call this morning."_

"_I was drunk, remember?" Colby pointed out, using that as the obvious excuse for his lack of professionalism. "And you didn't answer the door when Don came here, for the same reason…"_

"_No, not really."_

_Yeah, David had lots of other reasons to want to send everything to hell, but still._

"_Anyway, I'll get the car," David continued. _

"_I um…"_

_Colby could feel David's voice near him. "Listen. Like you said, it could be a case. And we can get drunk together, but work is work and people need us." He walked away and took his keys from the coffee table. "That's all I have left and I don't want to waste it." Finally, he went towards Colby one more time and added, "And you have Charlie, I've told you this before. Don't ruin it, or you'll regret it forever."_

_The green-eyed agent was speechless at the truth of those words. "Yeah, but…"_

"_Colby, man, let's go. We're partners, aren't we? And partners always give each other a hand. Just think about my advice, all right?"_

"_All right," Colby whispered after taking a deep breath. Then he decided that maybe David was right and he had to do something to fix things with Charlie._

Now, doing it was completely different. Standing beside the office door, Colby shook his head and decided that he'd do it when the right time came. He didn't even know if Charlie wanted him back.

"Hey," he said when he entered the office and recognized Ian, Don and Larry. The reunion wasn't as bad as he thought it would be, until he saw the people who were standing beside the desk, looking at pictures. There was Charlie and someone else – someone that looked slightly familiar, but who Colby couldn't tie to a name. "Who…?"

"That's Dr. Christopher Farrow. Don's getting him a security clearance so he can make his contribution to our current case," Larry explained.

The name hit Colby's system, as he remembered that he had seen that man on TV. "Oh," he whispered. He was worried already, and he knew why – besides his suspicious story, Dr. Farrow and Charlie seemed to share the same code.

"There has to be some very particular reason for these people to bury the pieces and not try to hide them somewhere else, given the damage the ground makes to the artifacts," the blue-eyed man was saying.

And of course, Charlie thoughtfully agreed. "I can run a search on out-of-law groups that are related to that exact M.O. I can also work on a probability approach…"

"I think that would be extremely helpful."

"Good, then I'll start right away."

It wasn't just jealously what Colby felt. It was also the fear of not being good enough for Charlie. What did he have to offer him? A nice talk? The mathematician probably found their conversations full of inconsistent words that didn't trigger his curiosity.

_Not now. It's not the time._ For now, Colby absolutely dropped the opportunity to talk to Charlie about their so-called "relationship." "So, Egyptian statues?" he asked, trying to push away the bad feelings.

Don nodded. "Yeah. Charlie and Dr. Farrow are looking at them right now." He dialed a number on his cell phone and asked them to excuse him for a minute. "It seems that a Consul is on the way here."

"Well, it seems that things are going to get complicated," David commented.

"Ah, the complexity of chaos…" Larry muttered, joining his palms and looking around the room. Then he approached Charlie and Dr. Farrow and the three of them continued talking.

As the physicist was busy and Don was making his call, Colby was left alone beside the door with Ian and David. Silence got a little bit hard to handle, but luckily, Ian wanted to share some details about the new case.

**XxX**

As Ian spoke to David and Colby, he knew exactly why they looked nervous and why the situation was getting awkward. They were aware that the sniper knew about Charlie and Colby being together. After all, Ian had taken a big part in the India case, he had even shot Amita himself.

And he had also heard David's story about his old lover, and he had heard Amita talking about how Charlie had left her for Colby.

He wasn't worried about the new couple, but he didn't encourage it, either. He felt neutral about matters of the heart that belonged to others, as they weren't any of his business; those were Colby and Charlie's decisions, and Ian didn't feel the need to add anything to the problems they must already have.

When he finished explaining what he had already told the other members of the team, he took a look at Dr. Farrow again. He hadn't forgotten about him, and he had planned how much time he would have to research him; if there was something dirty about him, he was sure he'd find out about it.

"These are made of stone, although Egyptians made their sculptures with several different materials," Dr. Farrow was saying. "It's fascinating."

A knock on the door made everyone including Ian lose their train of thought.

"The development of knowledge shouldn't be interrupted in moments like these," Larry stated, looking irritated. The knock persisted and became harder; noises of voices yelling "Move!" and "Open up!" outside filled the room. "I hope it's not the students again. Although they must have heard about Amita by now…"

"Why's that bad?" Dr. Farrow asked, and Ian noticed how his question and Larry's words made Charlie, Colby and David look through the window or anywhere else as long as it was away from each other.

Awkwardly, keeping an eye on his friends, the physicist remained silent. He had obviously realized that he had pronounced the name everybody was trying to avoid.

In that moment, Don closed his phone and announced, "Hey guys, it's positive - there's a Consul coming from Egypt as we speak. I gotta go to the FBI." He dialed another number as he went to open the door, but when he did, he almost dropped the device as flashes caught him by surprise and a lot of people started talking to him at the same time. There were microphones and cameras everywhere, too.

From inside the office, Ian realized what they meant – annoying reporters from trashy, sensationalist magazines. Confident, he went towards Don to help him make them go away, but the crowd was very big and the unstoppable mass of people got into the room.

When Ian turned to David, Colby and Charlie, they were hiding the books and the pictures of the statues that had been found. FBI matters weren't the tabloids' business.

Of course, Larry was trying to find a way to get Dr. Farrow, the centre of attention, out of the situation, but as the only other way out from the office was the window, he wasn't being very successful.

"FBI! Calm down, calm down! Dr. Farrow is busy right now, do you understand me?" Don was yelling at the reporters as he held his badge up in the air, but they weren't giving up on getting an interview with the famous archeologist.

"Don't let them see anything," the sniper told Colby, David and Charlie and they kept hiding the material they were using. "And how the hell did they get here? Isn't CalSci supposed to get these people far away from…?"

He stopped talking when the voices and noises coming from the crowd started to disappear. "When he turned to the door, he saw Dr. Farrow encouraging reports to interview him outside instead of the office, as Don asked him not to.

"Yes, I'm going to be working in this wonderful university for an undefined period of time – luckily, a long one!" the archeologist was announcing, as he smiled widely.

Ian shook his head as he recognized the classic charming technique of celebrities to make everyone melt at their words, but it wasn't the moment to pose for the press. "Hey," he called Farrow, asking him to come back and keep discussing the FBI case. He'd lock the door this time.

Still, Dr. Farrow kept talking avidly with the journalists, and it wasn't all that bad until he said, "And yes, I'm working on some projects here already. As you saw in that office, I had Dr. Charles Eppes and FBI Agent Don Eppes by my side – you caught us in the middle of an ongoing investigation."

_Celebrity and a damn showoff._ "Hey! _Hey!_" Ian yelled, and when he didn't get an answer, he decided to handle things his way. He went towards Dr. Farrow, grabbed him by his clothes and dragged him over to Charlie's office.

Not looking surprised at all, the archeologist continued his charming act with the press. "I'm so sorry, my bodyguard is supposed to take care of my safety, he's just doing his job," he said before the office's door was closed and locked. "What was that? I was talking to the press, they could have…" he wanted to know as the journalists continued to scream his name.

He was slammed against the wall by Ian, who felt already irritated about the guy. "Listen to me, because I'm going to say this once. You _don't_ discuss FBI matters with the press. This case is classified and it is an international issue, so _keep your mouth shut_, do you understand me?"

They looked into each other's eyes; Ian's first tightened against the laps of Dr. Farrow's jacket.

"I said - Do you understand me?" Ian repeated. He really hated people who didn't care if they hurt others by doing the wrong thing.

Dr. Farrow's eyes wandered around his face, as if they were analyzing it, trying to catch the real feeling in Ian's heart. "Of course I understand," he responded, and when the sniper let him go, he snapped, "_You_ are the one who doesn't get it."

_Oh, so you want to play._ "What did you just say?"

"I said that _you_ don't get it. I know the group that buried the pieces, I know how they work. Professor Eppes and I were organizing ourselves to get even more data from a mathematical approach."

"So? Does that allow you t-?" Ian asked, but he was interrupted, and he didn't like it one bit.

"Yes," Dr. Farrow stated. He arranged his wrinkled clothes and walked around the room. "Don't you see? Those people already know that someone has what they hid. Finding them is pretty much impossible, so why can't we give them a trail and make them come to us? They'll get the message or at least will try to find out what we have. Besides, I didn't tell the press enough for them to know what we're really doing here."

"You were going to."

"Maybe if we calm down, we can continue with…" Charlie said, but he was interrupted, too. Ian wasn't done with his conversation with the already annoying Dr. Farrow.

"You were going to spread the news – and don't give me that arrogant face, I can guarantee that the consequences won't be good for you."

Looking tired of fighting, the archeologist waved his hands and snapped, "Then _fine_, do whatever you want, because I'm not taking part in this case anymore. But don't beg me to help you when you can't find your criminals, Agent Edgerton. Remember that."

Again, silence filled the room. There were no sounds of eager journalists around anymore.

"That was one hell of a security clearance," David whispered to Colby, who nodded slowly. Ian could hear it all, since his senses were very awake from the adrenaline that had suddenly reached his body.

Charlie came to the centre of the office with a worried look on his face and turned to Ian and Dr. Farrow. "Gentlemen."

Ian took a deep breath as he saw a request in the mathematician's eyes – it was, "Let's stay focused." He recognized that he was right, so the sniper turned to the others to ask a question about the Egyptian pieces of art. However, a little detail disturbed him. "Where's Don?"

Everybody looked around, and Don wasn't anywhere.

"Oh, yeah, I remember I saw him walking through the crowd before you… brought Dr. Farrow back," Charlie explained.

Larry agreed. "He told us he needed to go to the FBI as soon as possible."

Again, Ian took a deep breath and shook his head. _Just stop that Consul from making this harder than it is already, Don._

**XxX**

As Don drove to the FBI, he tried to catch his breath. "Could you repeat that, Megan?"

"Yeah," she said on the other side of the line. "I'm at the office and everyone's saying that the tapes of Ami… The India case... have been recovered."

"What?" Don snapped, almost losing control over the vehicle. The India case records had all the conversations that had taken place during Amita's kidnapping. "Are you sure?"

"I am. And that's not everything. You don't even want to hear who's got them and is at your house right now."

"I'll take care of it."

Megan's silence didn't surprise him. He knew what she was going to say. "What do you mean, 'I'll take care of it?' Don, it's not something you can fix. That data is way up your head now."

"Just trust me, OK? I'm on my way to the house, can you cover me there if the Consul arrives?"

"Sure, but be careful." There was a hint in Megan's voice, meaning that she was still having doubts about Don's possible behavior.

However, he didn't give her any more explanations; he closed his phone and drove to the house where his father and his brother used to live before Amita made everything a living hell. He had to see who had the tapes of the case and try to find a way to recover them or make them lose their relevance because if someone heard them, the team would get in big trouble – trouble that giving the already stressing situation, wasn't exactly welcome.

As he drove by the corner of the house's street, he could see FBI techs gathering data from the place. It was the same scene he was been seeing for the last three days.

He got out of his car, trying to figure out who was in charge of the operation and who was the person Megan had been talking about. It shouldn't be that bad…

His heart jumped inside his chest when he heard footsteps coming towards him. He caught his breath when he turned around and the confident smile of a well-known man welcomed him. "Carl?"

"Don." Agent Carl McGowan said, not even intending to greet Don formally. He never shook anyone's hand - at least not the hand of someone who could turn out to be a suspect. "This case that has taken place at your house… I need you to answer some questions about it. You understand that what has happened here is not exactly a standard procedure."

"Yeah, yeah, of course. I'll help as much as I can." Don didn't even know how he got the energy to speak. "I've heard that someone recovered the tapes, which is great," he lied.

"Yes, it is. And we are working hard on finding out who made them disappear."

Don forced himself to smile. "Could you tell me who's got them? I really need to talk to that person. I don't want anyone to compromise the evidence again."

Carl looked deeply into Don's eyes and said, "Don't worry about that. The tapes are in my hands now, and you can be sure Don, that _no one_ will touch them." As soon as finished talking, he started walking towards the house. "Tomorrow at six o'clock, I want you in my office."

As he licked his lips, Don felt almost incapable of talking. He swallowed in concern, being aware that his heart was beating harder and harder with every second. He could only nod as Carl walked away and asked the techs how the research was going.

_He's going to find out about them. __About David's past…Damn, he's going to find out about Charlie and Colby. _

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

_**A/N: FEEDBACK IS LOVE.**_


	5. I remember

**Title:** "I remember"

**Series: **_In the Arms of the Wicked_, Part 5/?

**Characters:** Colby/Charlie, Megan, Don, David, Ian, Larry, Amita, mention of Liz and OMC.

**Rating:** M.

**Spoilers:** Season 5.

**Warnings:** None.

**Summary:** Don tells the team about the bad news, while Charlie and Colby talk about their relationship for the first time in days.

**Feedback:** I love it!  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything except my OMC.

**Beta:** Thanks to my amazing beta.

**A/N:** This series takes place after "Holding on to a lie," written by me. :)

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

**In the Arms of the Wicked**

**Part 5****: "I remember"  
**

Of course Megan knew that this would happen. As she sat at the table at Don's apartment, her eyes wandered around the room, watching the people that were around her. Charlie and Colby were on opposite sides of the room, David walked around, and Don, also seated at the table, just kept running his hands over his face. In the meantime, Larry was extremely occupied in a corner, looking thoughtful and away from the world.

Soon the team was complete. When Ian rang the bell of Don's apartment, everyone welcomed him. Megan asked him where Dr. Farrow was.

"He decided to go home," Ian announced, looking slightly irritated.

"Why? Wasn't he supposed to help us out?"

"Let's just say that he has a big mouth and it turned out to be my job to keep it shut."

After those words, Megan saw Larry wave his hands in a gesture of impatience. Something had to have happened between Ian and Dr. Farrow for him to do that, most probably an awkward moment or discussion that had taken place at CalSci.

"What will we do about him?" David asked, approaching the others at the table.

"Look, we'll talk about that later. I asked you to come here for another reason, okay? So let's stay focused," Don said with a somewhat angry tone of voice.

To Megan, what he was thinking was more than obvious. Since she had heard at the FBI that Agent Carl McGowan would take over Amita's case, she had been sure that he would mess up things even more.

"What is it, Don?" Colby wanted to know.

His boss shook his head, licked his lips and took a deep breath. "All right, I've some news for you… Carl McGowan is following the India case."

The news caught everyone but Megan by surprise.

"What? Why?" Charlie asked.

"There were some pretty irregular things in it, Charlie. I can't blame him for wanting to keep an eye on us, really. It's what anyone would do."

It seemed that David wasn't satisfied with that answer. "But Don, there has to be something important for McGowan to be around – something that really caught his attention."

"Yes, yes. There has to be a material source of information that is interesting and suspicious enough for a man of his range to intervene in the case," Larry added, joining the others.

Don's silence meant he was about to give more bad news. As he seemed to have trouble telling his team about it, Megan held her breath and waited. She watched him get up and lay his hands on the table as he finally spoke.

"He knows about the sound files that were recorded during the kidnapping at the house."

When there weren't any gasps of shock this time, Megan shook her head. She could expect some heavy discussion in any minute.

"So? I understand that the tapes were destroyed by someone," David muttered, looking right into Don's eyes.

Strangely, Don swallowed before answering, "No. There are copies of them."

David's dark eyes went wide and he was absolutely out of words. As his agent tried to catch his breath, Don continued, "I thought they were gone, David. I didn't…"

"Forget it. Just… forget it," David whispered as little drops of sweat slid slowly over his skin.

"Are you ok?" Colby asked, and his partner awkwardly nodded.

Charlie had a question, too – one that was really important. "Which tapes does McGowan have?"

"All of them. The system makes automatic copies for safety and they're immediately sent to a secure server. I don't how the hell I missed that," his brother answered.

"All… of them?"

"Yeah. All of them, Charlie… including the ones about you and Colby."

Feeling pain and worry fill her heart, Megan analyzed the way Charlie was looking at Colby. He was definitely afraid of what may come.

On the other side, Colby was trying not to look back at his lover. The green-eyed agent kept avoiding making eye contact with Charlie, like he was ashamed of something or like he thought that everything between them was already destroyed.

"Carl asked me to go to his office tomorrow morning," Don continued, while everyone else remained silent. "He wants to ask me some questions about what happened at the house."

"Are you going to be OK?" Megan wanted to know.

Don simply bit his bottom lip and admitted, "I don't know, but I'll do my best."

She nodded, completely out of breath, suddenly feeling the urge to leave. She hadn't had that feeling in years; not since her job at the DOJ. And the memories of that time weren't nice.

Of course Megan wanted to stay and try to support Don and the others, but the need to get out and catch some fresh air was too overwhelming for her. So she got up and announced, "I just remembered I have to visit Liz tonight, so I better get going. I'll keep my cell phone with me so you can contact me if anything happens."

"Tell her that we'll go to see her soon and that we're all thinking of her, all right?" her boss asked her.

"Sure."

"Wait, Megan. I'll go with you," David unexpectedly said, as if he had forgotten about Don's bad news. Megan didn't ask him about the reasons because she really didn't mind the company, even if she wanted to get away from the place. Her heart ached that her mind couldn't find a way to fix everybody's problems.

"Okay," she muttered as she waved the others goodbye and gave Larry a quick kiss on the cheek. Followed by David, she left Don's apartment and they both took the elevator. There, she couldn't restrain a little smile. "You're a good guy, doing this for Liz. She hasn't received a lot of visits so far, given the situation."

He shook his head. "She's our friend. She should know that we care about her… Liz risked her life fighting Amita in Charlie and Don's house. Being there for her is the best thing we can do for her. She deserves a lot more."

"That's true," Megan agreed. Inside, her heart felt the warm caress of kind words being spoken. At least there were still some good things around in her life, something that could make painful memories go away for a minute or two.

Once outside Don's apartment, they walked towards her car in silence. Suddenly, David stopped. When Megan turned around, she found him buying a bouquet of flowers. She observed him asking a street seller for pink lilies and returning to the car.

She didn't turn on the engine until he was inside the vehicle. There was something touching in the air, in that moment, and she couldn't stop staring at the flowers David was holding.

"I just thought…" he muttered.

"They're beautiful."

David smiled sadly in response, looking at the flowers, too. Megan had to use all the energy she had left to hold back the tears as she hit the gas. Kind words were now accompanied by a nice gesture, and that was all that was needed to brighten up her day.

**XxX**

"This is a mess, Don," Ian said as he, Don and Larry walked into the kitchen. "You do know what's the usual policy on gay agents? It's a lot worse than being abused while wearing the uniform."

"I know, I know! And I have no idea what to do. I thought those tapes didn't exist anymore, and now I have to deal with them again, and…"

"Excuse me… Did you just say 'again'?" Larry asked.

Curious, Ian followed Don's eyes as they landed on the physicist. There was no doubt he was hiding something. "Don."

"I don't know what I said, maybe I did say 'again,' but who cares," Don excused himself angrily. "So Dr. Farrow really went home?"

_All right, if you don't want to talk about it…_ "Yes. And he won't talk about the case to the press anymore, trust me."

"What happened?"

Larry took the lead. "A little encounter… not exactly pleasant, by the way."

"Well, we can't deal with the whims of irresponsible people like him," Ian stated.

"But we need him," Don said.

_I hate it that you have a good point._ "Mmm." Placing his hands on his hips, the sniper walked around the kitchen. "I don't trust him."

"Me neither, but he's the expert on Egyptian artifacts here. It'd take us ages to figure out details by ourselves, and we have that Consul on the way. It's not like we can't waste time."

In a way, Ian agreed with Don. But before he could give him an answer, he saw what time it was on the kitchen clock from the corner of his eye. "I gotta go, I'm sorry," he said, but he made a stop before leaving the room. "I'll get Dr. Farrow to the office tomorrow."

"Thank you, Ian."

"You're welcome."

The way out of Don's apartment was full of subtleties. "Granger," he told Colby as he passed him by. "Professor," he greeted Charlie as the mathematician opened the door for him. There was sadness in their eyes, and it seemed that they were going to have an important talk any minute.

**XxX**

Colby wondered who would be the first to talk. After all, Megan and David had gone to the hospital to see Liz, Don and Larry were talking in the kitchen and Ian had just left. In the living room, the only two people were him and Charlie. With the plus of the horrible, awkward silence, that was making things even harder.

If he could only raise his voice, open his mouth and talk… He hated that it was so difficult for him. Besides the memory of being abused by Amita and the guilt of causing her to go crazy, there was the presence of Dr. Farrow around Charlie. All that had to make it impossible for Colby and his lover to get together again.

And suddenly, Charlie's voice filled the room, breaking the silence.

"Remember when I told you that we had five percent chance to be happy together?"

The images of Charlie saying such a non-romantic comment made Colby spontaneously smile. "Yeah, I do." When he noticed that he was already talking to the person he loved, he realized that it was natural once the ice had been broken. Still, things weren't okay between them, and he had to say the first thing that ran through his head. "And you? Do you remember when we said that we'd take it slow and then we did exactly the opposite?" Colby quietly asked.

A little sad smile appeared in the corner of Charlie's lips as he sat beside Colby at the table. "Yeah… It feels like it was a million years ago, not only two months."

Colby took a deep breath, the good feeling mixing with the sorrow of loss. "Well… now something has made us finally slow down." That was the truth, anyway. They had taken things for granted, they hadn't developed their relationship the way they should have. They had make mistakes, they had hurt Amita and now they were supposed to deal with the consequences.

There was something else Colby needed to say. He could hear little sobs coming from Charlie, and when he turned to him, he could see his lover's fingers resting on his hand.

Everything was so silent and strange that the sudden change of atmosphere made the pain really hard to handle. But just when Colby was about to apologize about everything that had happened with Amita, Charlie let go his hand and whispered, "I'm the one who should say sorry."

Then he _left_.

Colby didn't look at him He felt the absence of Charlie's warm skin on his, and the room suddenly seemed to be extremely cold.

Maybe _too cold_.

He covered his face with his palms. He wanted to do it, he wanted to tell Charlie that he wanted to continue with what they had, but he just couldn't.

And he couldn't hold back the tears.

**XxX**

Again, that blonde woman was observing the doctor's work from outside. She was clearly their boss, as she wore formal clothes and kept taking down notes that eventually would end up in the patient's file.

Amita hated the process – she truly did. But she also knew that it was necessary for her to go through this, and that even if she didn't want to cooperate, doctors would make her do it.

"We need a blood sample so we can proceed with the parentage tests," one of the men said, as he took out a needle from a medical unit.

Feeling overwhelmed by the situation, Amita took control of her own body and forced it not to tremble. That way, she was able to nod and remain still as doctors took the vial of blood.

She didn't blink as she watched the needle slowly get filled with the dark liquid being dragged from her arm. Her mind was somewhere else – on the worry of how to take care of a new life when she couldn't even take care of hers.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

_**A/N: FEEDBACK IS LOVE.**_


	6. The perfect coverage

**Title:** "The perfect coverage"

**Series: **_In the Arms of the Wicked_, Part 6/?

**Characters:** Ian/OMC, Don, Charlie, McGowan.

**Rating:** M.

**Spoilers:** Season 5.

**Warnings:** None.

**Summary:** Ian discovers a couple of things about Dr. Farrow while visiting his house.

**Feedback:** I love it! A penny for your thoughts.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything except my OMC.

**Beta:** Thanks to my amazing beta.

**A/N:** This series takes place after "Holding on to a lie," written by me. :)

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

**In the Arms of the Wicked**

**Part 6****: "The Perfect Coverage"  
**

It was 5.55 am when Don entered the FBI building. He felt tired, since he had spent the night thinking about how to help his team. Colby and Larry had gone home a while after Ian had left. Charlie had decided to go out for a walk and returned at midnight only to remain silent and sleepless, just like his brother. Still, Don hadn't come to any useful conclusions. It seemed that there was no way out of this one – Carl was tough but fair and he would eventually manage to get to the truth.

As he walked towards Agent McGowan's office, he tried to control his heart beats. His pulse was a little bit too accelerated and if Carl saw he was nervous, it would somehow compromise him. When he got to his door, Don watched him talking over the phone with his usual calm yet focused face, writing down some data, and sometimes looking for a particular file. He had to be extremely careful or life as he knew it would become a living hell. He took a deep breath and respectfully knocked on the door. Carl looked up from his papers and gestured him to come in as he kept talking on the phone.

"Hey, Carl. I'm here as arranged…"

Done stopped talking when McGowan gestured him to stop. He was about to leave and wait outside just in case the phone call was classified, but soon Carl's voice came up.

"Don, we're going to reschedule. Come back in an hour."

There were no excuses, no explanations, but Carl didn't really have to say anything to make people do as he told them. Feeling a little bit discouraged, Don nodded and walked out of the room. At least he'd get a few more minutes to find good answers to give to particular questions and calm down his nerves a little bit. He walked back toward his desk, and somehow ended up at the break room, watching the way coffee was poured into the pot by the coffee machine. Something ordinary like that felt so safe right now, and it helped clear his mind.

"Are you OK?" someone asked him, interrupting his train of thought. When Don turned around, he found Charlie entering the break room.

"Yeah, buddy. It's just that this interview with Carl… I don't think it's going to go well."

Charlie approached him and stood beside him. "Hey, this is not your duty, Don… It is all about anyone but you. You shouldn't try to…"

"Try what? To protect my team?" As Charlie didn't say a word, Don took the coffee pot out of the machine and started pouring some of the steaming liquid into a cup. "You and everyone else aren't only the people I work with, you're friends and family. I can't help worrying about you and wanting to keep you safe. It's my job, it's the way things are."

"I know," his brother responded. "Just… don't try so hard. I don't want you to get in trouble because of us."

It was nice to hear that Charlie was worrying about Don. "Thanks, Charlie. I'll see what I can do."

There was a moment of silence, then Charlie spoke again. "What about Dr. Farrow?"

"Ah… Ian is supposed to try to bring him to the office today so we can speed things up a bit. There's more data on the way here; it should arrive in less than an hour."

"Good. Do you think Ian will be able to convince him?"

Doubtful, Don shook his head. "I have no idea."

**XxX**

Millionaires' houses should look like palaces or, at least, mansions. Farrow's didn't. It was an old, nice building of simple construction, out of town; a peculiar, silent, unique piece of land where no one famous seemed to possibly live. It seemed to be a perfect place for little kids to ride their bicycles as they carried candy in their tiny baskets. Too much like a dream, too different from what Dr. Farrow meant to the world. But it was still LA all around, no matter how much it looked like a disturbing, private mirage.

_The perfect coverage for a shallow kind of life. _The rings of his cell phone caught Ian's attention as he walked towards the big but coarse house. "Yeah, Don," he said before passing by a rubber tree with blooming white flowers and an old Chevrolet parked on the driveway. "New data? That's OK, I'm on my way to Farrow's door. You can be sure he'll be there this morning. What about McGowan?" When Don informed Ian that their meeting had been rescheduled, the sniper responded, "Let's hope that doesn't mean something bad happened."

He closed his phone and finally stood at Farrow's door. He rang the bell and waited, feeling a little bit overwhelmed by the sudden change of air. Nature all around him was way different than the environment he was used to – downtown, large buildings, smog, car horns, chaos and crime.

_December of 2006. Louis Terrence is found dead down the stairs in the property of Dr. Christopher Farrow at 20.17 pm. One bullet into the heart, another one into the head. Farrow is found inside the kitchen cabinet holding an empty gun. Ballistic analysis determines he wasn't the one who shot Louis. But still…_

There was the sound of someone using a key on the other side of the door. Ian assumed he would be welcomed by a butler or a housekeeper. He frowned behind his sunglasses when someone else appeared in front of his eyes.

"Ah," was the only thing the doctor said when he opened the door. "Agent Edgerton." His face looked slightly pleased, as if he had known that Ian would come to see him. Then he asked the sniper to come in.

Once Ian was inside the house, he took a quick look at the place. The entry opened into a giant, tidy library. There were open books everywhere he looked, and a big desk at the end of the room. He could see a laptop, three cell phones and a cup of coffee on the desk, along with some more books. It seemed as if Farrow had been working late that day. When Ian turned to face the archeologist again, he took off his sunglasses and analyzed the other man's clothes. He assumed that he was about to take a shower, as Farrow was wearing jogging pants and a tank top. Strangely, he looked just like any other person in the world, not the annoying celebrity he actually was.

A man dressed completely in white with casual clothes came into the room and asked, "Christopher? I was about to open the door for you…"

_So he's your employee?_ Ian wondered why things were so weird in that house.

"It's OK, Sergio, it's just the FBI."

"_Just the FBI." Yeah, right. _As the man known as "Sergio" left the room, Ian said, "Your butler?"

"Yes," Dr. Farrow stated. "I like my people to feel at home when they're around me. I only give jobs to the ones I trust the most, the ones I have a bond with. As much of a cliché as it sounds, being me is not easy." Then he walked over to his desk, where he started reading his books. "I assume you're here because of the case."

"Of course."

A confident smile spread across Farrow's lips. "I told you you'd be back."

"This is duty," Ian snapped. "We need you to come with me to the FBI. We're getting more information in a few hours and we wanted you t-"

"No."

Ian took a deep breath; he didn't like being turned down. "That's not a smart decision."

"I'm fine with it."

As Dr. Farrow kept flipping the pages of his books, Ian walked around the room. If the man liked to provoke, then he'd go with it. Maybe a game would be the key. "You're going to stay here while these guys steal the pieces you've studied for years?"

"Yes. I've got everything I want here. My books, my research, my coffee. Why would I want to collaborate?"

Strangely, Ian could swear that he had heard Farrow whispering, "The working atmosphere is not pleasant anyway" after his last words. Yet, the sniper stated, "You're a fraud."

He suddenly heard Dr. Farrow's laugh. "That kind of reverse psychology is not going to work."

"Really?"

The way Ian said it – roughly, seriously - seemed to catch the archeologist's attention. Dr. Farrow took his eyes off the books and stared at the sniper. Ian looked back, as ever as stoic.

The book he was holding was closed in a second. "Let me take a quick shower."

Finally, convincing him hadn't turned out to be so hard. "Okay," Ian quietly answered. The tone of their conversation had changed so much since the moment they had met the day before. Maybe it was because this was Farrow's territory, or because they were alone in that strange land, but something was different. Of course, Ian still considered the other man to be annoying, but as long as he cooperated with the case...

As Dr. Farrow took his shower, Ian continued studying the little details of the room he was in. The window behind the desk was open, its curtains slowly moving with the soft wind. But what really caught his attention were the frames that hanged from the creamy walls. They framed the pictures of the most exquisite horses – a fine, black and white Gypsy Vanner, a beautiful bay Arabian and a stunning black Friesian.

All of a sudden, a memory passed by filling Ian's heart with sorrow and melancholy. He could smell the grass that naturally grew in Marah's land; he could see the way she groomed her horses, the way she positioned the saddle pats and the saddles themselves on their backs. He could even visualize the way she talked to them as if they could understand her words.

"Do you like horses?" Dr. Farrow's voice suddenly stopped the flow of memories. Ian noticed that he was wearing a casual shirt and formal pants. The image managed to disturb him somehow, so he didn't answer and waited for the other man to continue. "I do. Those are from my house in Arizona. I'm trying to understand the ancient cultures' veneration towards these animals, and I have to admit that they are quiet fascinating."

"Do you have everything you need?" After the little flashes of the past, Ian wasn't in the mood to keep talking about horses, no matter how much he felt dragged into their beauty.

"Yes." The other man pointed at the suitcase and the extra bag he was carrying.

"Then let's go."

"Sergio, I'm leaving!"

"Okay!"

With the sound of Sergio doing the laundry in a distant room, Ian and Dr. Farrow went towards the door. But before opening it, the archeologist said, "I think it'd be better if we left in separate cars, just in case. As far as I know, the press hasn't found out this place yet, but one can never be sure."

"Then I'll go first." _Fine, as long as you move._ Taking a deep breath, Ian got out of the house and walked into the silent freshness of the area. He never looked back. Once he was in his car, he turned on the engine. Less than a minute later, Dr. Farrow went towards his old Chevrolet. Both the archeologist and the sniper were on their way to the FBI.

Ian closely watched Dr. Farrow's driving in his rearview mirror, just in case he decided to change his mind and travel to another destination. But there were no problems this time. It seemed that the man was finally cooperating, and Ian hoped things stayed that way.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

_**A/N: FEEDBACK IS LOVE.**_


	7. Definition of Law

**Title:** "Definition of Law"

**Series: **_In the Arms of the Wicked_, Part 7/?

**Characters:** Ian/OMC, Don, McGowan, the team.

**Rating:** M.

**Spoilers:** Season 5.

**Warnings:** None.

**Summary:** Some stories shouldn't be told at the FBI office.

**Feedback:** I love it! C'mon, share your thoughts.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything except my OMC.

**Beta:** Thanks to my amazing beta.

**A/N:** This series takes place after "Holding on to a lie," written by me. :)

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

**In the Arms of the Wicked**

**Part 7****: "Definition of Law"  
**

When Ian approached the team accompanied by Dr. Farrow, Larry's face lightened up. Everybody was standing around the desk, coming up with theories as the flipped the pages of new files.

"Good morning, Larry."

"Good morning, Christopher. I'm glad you finally decided to share your expertise with us."

Dr. Farrow's eyes landed on the sniper. "Well, Agent Edgerton has his ways."

"The point is that we're here," Ian stated, as he looked at Megan, Don, David, Charlie and Colby. "Don, do we have the new pictures?"

"Yeah. They just came in. Apparently, the statues we saw were the least expensive of the found set." Don immediately grabbed a pile of pictures and handed them to the others.

Then David explained, "According to our technicians, they contain the representation of two important gods, Horus and Set."

Colby asked, "Does that mean something?"

"Yes, it does. The organization that stole this has a certain preference for these two deities," Dr. Farrow explained.

"Statistic records show that 96.7% of the antiquities stolen and hid with this M.O. are about them," Charlie added.

Megan had another suggestion. "Could you tell us what they meant for Egyptians? I could work on a psychological profile for the group, maybe adding some different approaches about how they work and what the thieves' next steps could be."

Looking absentminded, Dr. Farrow frowned; but when he started talking, his eyes went wide with excitement and his voice became deep and academic. "These two gods have a very interesting story. Horus tried to kill Set endless times for murdering his father Osiris and getting access to the throne, and a terrible war was started."

"Really? What happened?" Charlie asked, looking genuinely curious.

"Well, in simple words, Set tried to rape Horus but Horus stopped him by catching his semen. For revenge, Horus tried to do the same thing but in a more… let's say, subtle way – with the help of unguents, he masturbated, caught his own semen and put it on the lettuce Set would eat afterwards without noticing."

Ian frowned, as he couldn't believe what Dr. Farrow was saying.

"Of course, Set turned out to be the one marked with Horus' seed, which meant Horus held the sexually dominant role," the archeologist continued. "As a result, the gods proclaimed him the new pharaoh of Egypt."

Silence stepped into the conversation as everybody looked at each other and then back to Dr. Farrow.

"What? Don't you guys deal with things like these every day?" He slightly shrugged. "And you haven't even heard about the lack of the taboo of incest, since Set was Horus' uncle…"

"Excuse me?" Don snapped, as he frowned in astonishment.

This was too much. The awkwardness of the conversation had taken over and, for a moment, it seemed that it was more important than the reason for the gathering at the office, so Ian decided to reestablish order. "Ok, let's move on… to the _case_." He walked around the desks with his hands on his hips. "We have the man whose backyard was full of buried antiquities on the way here. Maybe the professor can look up…"

The sound of loud footsteps made him turn around, only to find Agent McGowan walking towards them. He had a big smirk on his face. _This is not going to be good._

"Dr. Christopher Farrow," McGowan said, looking into the archeologist's eyes. Farrow simply stared back. "Could you please join me on the way out of the building?" There was no answer. "I've heard about your conversation with the press yesterday. That is not an acceptable behavior and a man of your expertise should know that."

"Hhmm," was the only word that came out of Dr. Farrow's mouth as he stared as his entwined fingers.

It was obvious that Agent McGowan didn't like him very much. "It seems that a life of wealth and pleasure has affected your sense of responsibility, but that's only my opinion. The point is that you're off this case. Now, please follow me…" He made a gesture towards the exit, but Dr. Farrow didn't move from his place.

"Cameron won't agree."

McGowan frowned. Ian wasn't surprised, since Cameron was the head of his department. "I beg your pardon?"

"I said that I don't think Noah Cameron will agree with your decision."

"And you are allowed to speak for him?"

"No, but I know him well enough to predict what he'll say. You can go and find out yourself."

The smile McGowan gave Dr. Farrow was anything but kind. Carl was always so in control, yet it was evident that there was something between the two men. Maybe a fight that had not yet been won.

"In the meantime, though…" the archeologist muttered, grabbing his stuff and following McGowan anyway. Ian shook his head as he watched them go toward the elevator, feeling that no one could have done anything to stop it because they were also in the agent's line of fire.

Larry raised his voice. "But he could have added so much to this case."

"Damn it," Ian cursed. He had gotten involved in discussions with Dr. Farrow, made research of him, even gone to his house to bring him to the FBI, only to see him walk out a few minutes after arriving.

"Is there anyone else we can call?" Megan wanted to know.

Larry put his palms on both sides of his face and shrugged in confusion. "I don't…"

McGowan returned, looking like he wanted to keep causing trouble. "Don, it's been an hour."

Taking a deep breath, Don quickly arranged his clothes and said, "All right." He looked back at everyone else, then followed McGowan to his office.

_What else could happen now?_ "OK… I guess all we can do for now is conducting our own research," Ian suggested. Everyone left sat at the desks to try to replace Dr. Farrow's brain.

**XxX**

Don waited for Carl to ask the questions; he had to be prepared to answer them perfectly.

"So, Don… Your little consultant is gone now. What do you think of that?" Agent McGowan asked.

After taking a deep breath, Don decided that it was better to speak with the truth. "I think that he could have helped us a lot, but I also understand that he talked more than he should have."

"You respect my decision."

"Yeah, yeah, you did what you had to do." Don suddenly realized that he was running his hand over his chin in what could be taken a sign of a false answer.

"Are you close with FBI's book?"

"I know all the rules. I've applied them myself a lot of times. Do you want me to stick to a certain procedure, or…?"

"No, no. In fact, let me tell you something, Don," Carl muttered, leaning on his chair as darkness surrounded him. "You won't have to use the book. I keep the rules and know them as well as the palm of my hand. _I _am the law. _Me._"

Carl's voice was low but it wouldn't have intimidated Don if it wasn't for the fact that his team's future depended on him. "Okay."

"Then we should start with the questions." In a second, Agent McGowan revised the files that were on his desk. But before he could make his first question, his office phone rang. Don immediately got up, but the other man told him to stay. As a result, Don could watch the way Carl's expression changed and became colder as he talked to whoever was on the other side of the line.

"I see," he was saying. "Aha. Of course. Yes, I'll proceed immediately." He hung up and leaned on his chair again. "Do you know who it was?"

"No."

"It was Noah Cameron."

Don suddenly started to feel nervous and asked, "What did he say?"

"He wants to take care of your house's case. And he wants Farrow on the current one."

"Oh."

"You're dismissed… for now."

Confused, Don slowly got up and left without saying a word. While he walked down the corridors, he couldn't help asking himself a lot of questions. But two were the most important: Had Dr. Farrow contacted Noah Cameron and asked him to go over Carl? And if so, how had Farrow got access to such an important person within the FBI?

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

_**A/N: FEEDBACK IS LOVE.**_


	8. Against all odds

**Title:** "Against all odds"

**Series: **_In the Arms of the Wicked_, Part 8/?

**Characters:** Colby/Charlie, Don, David, Ian, Megan, mention of OCs.

**Rating:** M.

**Spoilers:** Season 5.

**Warnings:** None.

**Summary:** Colby needs to be there for Charlie, against all odds.

**Feedback:** I love it! C'mon, share your thoughts.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything except my OCs.

**Beta:** Thanks to my amazing beta.

**A/N:** This series takes place after "Holding on to a lie," written by me. :)

**Another A/N:** Special thanks to my friends Lily G and harknessgirl - they helped me so much with this chapter.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

**In the Arms of the Wicked**

**Part 8****: "Against all odds"  
**

After getting the same answer for the twentieth time, Don stopped looking up for Noah Cameron's cross references. The only thing he had access to was a very vague profile on the man which didn't even have an available picture. All it said was what everyone already knew – he was the Director of the Security Clearance Investigations Program, a forty-year-old man who had important responsibilities at the FBI. But that was about it.

As Don wondered how to get more data about him, he saw Megan walking towards him with some files in her hands.

"Colby and David are working on the organization's background, and Charlie and Larry on behavioral theory using numbers… I need all that before I can make any assumptions," she said, and then she stopped beside Don. "Did you get any hits? Because I tried to look up Noah Cameron's name and all I got was this meaningless profile page…"

"I got the same," Don responded, rubbing the back of his head as Megan looked at the screen of his computer. "The guy's the head of the Security Clearance Program, and yet he manages to become some kind of ghost. How's that possible?"

"I don't know about that," Ian said as he approached them. "But what I do know is that Farrow's connection to him makes him even more suspicious."

"Have you checked Farrow's file?"

"Yeah." Within seconds, Ian was in front of another computer, entering the name to the data base. "Here it is."

"That's a long list of studies," Megan muttered, arranging her glasses to read the records better. "He's got multiple degrees in several interconnected fields."

"That's the only thing that could lead Professor Fleinhardt to a guy like him," Ian commented.

"That and their love for knowledge, of course," she corrected him.

Frowning, it seemed that Ian wasn't in the mood to argue. "Farrow's wealth comes from heritage. His parents held important bank stocks through the 90s, and when they passed away in 2002, he got it all."

"How did they die?" Don wanted to know.

"Malaria. They caught the disease during one of their trips to Africa, but Farrow wasn't with them at the time. He was here in the U.S. when he was informed that the vaccines his family had received were useless."

So there were no leads there. Exhausted, Don ran his hands over his face. "What about that scandal that took place a couple of years ago?"

"Charlie said that Farrow was clean," Megan said.

Apparently, Ian disagreed. "The judge determined that, but the facts could tell us otherwise. We all know that having access to a big amount of money can mean being above the law sometimes."

While Megan took a deep breath, Don rubbed the back of his head again. The sound of the printer throwing out the copies of Farrow's profile filled Don's mind after he closed his eyes again. When he opened them, he found Megan's eyes on his.

"Are you OK?"

He rubbed his eyes. "Yeah, I just couldn't sleep, thinking of that Noah Cameron."

"The guy is a legend but the only thing most people know about him is his name. No one ever knows where he is or what he's doing unless he shows up or contacts you," Ian intervened, never taking his eyes off the screen. For a moment, that description sounded exactly like one that could easily fit Ian's kind of life.

"So, there's no way for us to talk to him?" Don asked.

"As far as I know, there isn't. But he's going to get access to those tapes."

Still looking at Don, Megan muttered, "Considering that McGowan hasn't approached Charlie and Colby yet, I take it as he hasn't listened to them, but how's Charlie holding up?"

"I don't know. Last night he had some kind of talk with Colby and it seems that it didn't go very well. He went out and when he came back, he didn't sleep at all and he didn't say a word to me."

Megan took off her glasses and sat on a desk. "Maybe he has to deal with this by himself."

"Maybe, but I'm his brother and I don't want to see him like that." Shaking his head, flashes of the previous night came to Don's mind. "But I didn't ask him anything either last night. It wasn't because I was trying to give him some space, you know. It was because my mind was off thinking about Carl and the interview…"

Looking confident, Ian typed a couple of words as he said, "I'm sure your brother knows you're doing the best you can, Don. You've always done that. Voodoo is on your side."

The comment and Ian's smirk brought a smile to Megan's face, and it caused Don's lips to curve in reaction. After all, he had talked to Charlie that same morning and things were okay between them. They were good brothers, no matter what. "All right, I guess that's true. Where are David and Colby, by the way? They should already have the organization's background done."

Still smiling, Megan pointed at one of the offices to their left, where the two men were running data on the big screens of the room. "I was there with them but I thought about giving them a little moment alone. Bonding is very important in situations like these."

"Of course. Let's give them a few more minutes then," Don said as he looked back at her and then at Ian – the people he had been bonding with during the last half hour. The more time he spent with them, the more he realized how much he trusted them.

**XxX**

"How many pieces?" Colby asked David while he futilely looked for dates and addresses. They were using all the computers in the office, but the search was pretty much pointless so far.

"Eight hundred and twenty six."

"You've got to be kidding me. How the hell did they steal all that?"

After displaying the pictures on the screen, David explained, "Most of them were hidden underground and found by the land owners few years later. Then LAPD and the FBI took care of them."

"What? They never came back to claim the artifacts?" Colby said, getting up from his desk.

"No. But then again, those were the least expensive of all."

Colby shrugged and sat down. "I see."

There was silence between them for a moment, until David spoke again. The tone of his voice told Colby that the next conversation was going to be about personal matters.

"So, did you think about my advice?"

Obviously, he meant the advice he had given Colby about fixing things with Charlie. The green-eyed agent took a breath as he kept running the data. "We talked last night."

David walked over to him and leaned on the desk. "From the look on your face, I can tell you didn't get back together."

"No… It was… awkward and… a little bit, you know… discouraging." The memory of Charlie words was still fresh in Colby's mind. "He said that he should say sorry to me for what happened with Amita and not the other way around." Calling her "The India case" didn't really make much sense at the moment.

"What did you say?"

"I didn't get the chance to say anything. He left."

Silence returned for a moment. David left the desk, took a file and flipped the pages as he talked. "Well, you're not getting anywhere with him if all you do is stand there."

"David…" The last thing Colby needed right now was someone telling him that he had made a bad decision. David hadn't been there anyway.

"What are you going to do if Amita's kid turns out to be his?"

Of course Colby had thought about that issue during the last few days, but hearing the possibility from David's lips turned on the fire of uncertainty in his heart. "We still have to wait for the blood tests to be done anyway. I'll deal with it then."

David's voice sounded low and worried when he said, "Fine. But you just back him up, no matter what happens, okay?"

A little bit tired, Colby only nodded. A question popped into his mind at the sight of his partner's still worried expression. "And what if the baby is yours? What are you going to do?" The heavy breathing of his friend didn't surprise him as he waited for an answer.

"I… I honestly have no idea."

Now Colby felt a little guilty for not supporting David the way he deserved. Determined to say something to make him feel better, he opened his mouth, but suddenly the other man looked at the time and spoke again.

"I gotta go to the hospital… for the paternity test."

"Oh." Colby was glad that the tapes of the India case hadn't been checked yet; that way, the test could take place in a hospital as a personal matter without anyone knowing and making a scandal out of it. "What about Charlie?"

"He's going, too. We decided that we'd do it together a few days ago…"

That was a surprise, since Colby had no idea about it. "You didn't tell me anything." _Charlie didn't tell me anything._

"Well, Charlie and I talked about it in private and we thought that no one had to know about it, but… you should," David muttered. "We're not taking Berenson's samples, so that this doesn't go further than it has already. We have enough with the approval of the procedure we got from the psychiatric center where Amita is staying; they took it as a different issue from the charges she's being accused of and we don't want anyone to think this is even more suspicious. Besides, if neither Charlie nor I is the father of the child, then it'll have to be him." Then he tried to leave the room but before he could do that, Colby asked one more question.

"Can I go with you?"

Again, Colby's partner held his gaze and finally nodded, like he wasn't really sure if he was making the right decision. But Colby didn't care; as long as he could be there for the people he loved the most, he'd go anywhere he was needed.

He followed David out of the tech room and then into the war room and he noticed Charlie and Larry were talking inside. They looked like they had been discussing an important matter. Colby wondered if it could be the paternity tests.

"Charlie, it's time…" David muttered, and when Charlie turned around, he added, "Colby wants to come, too."

It took Charlie a few moments to respond, "Okay," never taking his eyes off his lover.

The three of them talked to Megan, Don and Ian and told them about their appointment at the hospital. Of course, their friends understood and said that they would care of everything at the office. They would even call Dr. Farrow and ask him to meet Charlie at CalSci a few hours later so they could work on the case. They would also deal with the owner of the house where the set of art pieces had been found, and with the Consul that was about to arrive.

"Thank you," David muttered, and Charlie nodded at his brother and the rest of the team. They had received the same shocking news all of a sudden. Soon David, Charlie and Colby were on their way out of the building, and then on their way to the hospital where the psychiatric centre had arranged the tests to be done. They didn't say a word during the entire trip. Colby didn't even dare to speak his mind and ask if it was really okay for him to go with them.

The large building where the appointment would take place was full of people waiting for nurses and doctors. It was a busy day at the hospital, and rushed people at the main desk took Charlie and David's data before asking them to wait in a certain room.

Colby didn't walk into the room right after the other men. He stood behind for reasons he couldn't really figure out, only aware of the fear that had suddenly reached his heart. From where he was, he could see Charlie and David looking at the floor. But when three nurses came in bringing in all the necessary medical equipment, time seemed to go slower, every action deeply marking Colby's soul.

The expression on David's face said it all – shocked, frozen, and unresponsive- as the experts dressed in lab coats and wearing latex gloves started to do their job. He had probably prepared himself for this moment, but being in it was very different.

"Mr. Charles Eppes?" one of the nurses said as she prepared the syringe. Charlie made a step forward and suddenly everything seemed to be quite a show of dark expectations. Charlie sat on a chair, took off his jacket and shirt and stood there with only a t-shirt, preparing his arm for the needle; David started to take his jacket, too, as his turn would be the next. What would Colby do if his lover was the father of Amita's child? The echo of David's words meant suddenly everything. "You just back him up, no matter what happens, okay?" he had said.

That was what Colby had to do - be there for Charlie against all odds.

He took the courage to enter the room and he stood there, looking into Charlie's eyes, as blood was being taken from him. He didn't care if it was weird; the message he wanted to send was far more important than anything else.

_I'm here. I'm here._ He repeated it to himself over and over again as he remained still, with his lover's gaze on his, hoping Charlie understood.

The needle was being pushed into the mathematician's arm, but Colby didn't see it, he didn't even notice the clock on the wall, ticking; all he could see was Charlie's soul through his sweet, scared eyes and his barely open lips.

The syringe was soon filled and placed aside, where it would be protected from everyone and everything until the lab analyzed it properly. Then a swab was rubbed against the inside of Charlie's cheek and placed aside. Silence was all around and suddenly it was David's turn – the turn of the man who had been through so much pain without deserving it. He took off his shirt, exposing the tank-top he was wearing underneath, and sat on another chair.

Watching David offer the nurses his arm was heart-breaking. He didn't even look up as blood was taken from him. Colby didn't know if he was ashamed, but he was sure that he was afraid. Having a kid wasn't in David's plans yet, and the birth of an unwanted child would strongly hit the way he lived his life.

Two drops of blood fell from the syringe when it was taken out by the nurse in charge. The thick liquid splashed David's dark skin and slid over it in what seemed to last forever. He lost control of his focused expression for a moment, an expression that Colby didn't believe in but that David was obviously trying hard to maintain. After the buccal swab was taken, his frown even turned into a sigh of sadness and hopelessness, and his throat swallowed just a little too roughly.

Colby watched the entire scene without saying a word, his mind focused on his friends, on the people he loved the most. When the nurses started to leave the room, he saw David take his jacket and leave looking like a completely different man – a man who was about to fight an impossible war.

Then, he realized that he had been left alone with Charlie in that hospital room. _This is the moment. This is it. _Colby turned to his lover, who was still seated on the chair, and his eyes fixed on the wrinkles of the shirt Charlie was putting back on. He desperately wanted to reach for that fabric, for that warm skin, and touch it. _Just touch him. Just show him… that I care._

He waited for his lover to look up, and soon the same sentence he had been saying to himself escaped from his lips. "I'm here," he whispered.

Charlie stopped paying attention to his clothes and stared back, little signs of understanding showing through his desperate eyes. "I know."

The clock kept ticking as always. The syringes were carefully packed and on the way to the lab, and there was still a case to solve; but things would be different from now on. A new life had already been written and it was only a matter of time for it to be revealed.

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_**A/N: FEEDBACK IS LOVE.**_


	9. Meaningful, little fractions

**Title:** "Meaningful, little fractions"

**Series: **_In the Arms of the Wicked_, Part 9/?

**Characters:** Charlie/Colby, Larry, OMC.

**Rating:** M.

**Spoilers:** None.

**Warnings:** None.

**Summary:** Egyptian symbols keep a lot of secrets.

**Feedback:** I love it! C'mon, share your thoughts.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything except my OCs. The Egyptian data I used here doesn't belong to me either, of course, I got it from websites that aren't mine.

**Beta:** Thanks to my amazing beta.

**A/N:** Special thanks to my friends Lily G and harknessgirl for their assistance. :)

**VERY IMPORTANT A/N: I wanted to include some extremely important graphics in this chapter at different moments, but as FF doesn't let me publish that and/or the links, you can visit my website (the link is on my profile) and see the pictures there in the latest post. I can't recommend this enough, because if you don't check that out, this chapter will be hard to understand. Thank you for your understanding.**

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**In the Arms of the Wicked**

**Part 9****: "Meaningful, little fractions"  
**

"So, I suppose you talked to Colby," Larry said as he circled Charlie's desk, limping as usual. The other man mimicked his actions. They were both analyzing the possible meanings of the new data found by David and Colby before they went to the hospital.

"Only a little bit," Charlie responded as he took a piece of paper full of calculations and read it as he kept his merry-go-round trip around the desk.

In front of him, also still walking, the physicist joined his hands. "That can be measured at least in an estimate number, I believe."

Charlie left the paper on the desk again but continued his trip around the desk. "I think we spoke for about a minute…" He stopped in his tracks as he described Larry what he remember about his extremely brief conversation with his lover.

_Wrinkles that he'd never get rid of; signs of the appointment that had just taken place; sometimes, things kept terrible hours, turning themselves into horrible reminders of a time of desperation. _

"_I'm here."_

_The voice and the endless hope in the eyes of that man were all that it took for Charlie's world to come apart. He had fought the tears with an incredible willpower; there was no need of a show in the hospital room._

_Words had rolled off his tongue as he repressed a little sob. "I know." But the utterance of them led to a state of peace that Charlie wasn't ready for, after feeling his nerves crash down. He tried to breathe slowly, enjoying the too brief moment of calmness, until Colby went towards him and leaned on the trolley that was beside his chair. Charlie wondered what he was going to say and do, but didn't ask. Things would come the way destiny intended. _

"_I'm not sure where we're going with this… or with anything, really, but I want you to know that you can count on me."_

_Charlie didn't respond at that second; he kept watching the emptiness of the white room and how cold and scary it seemed to be. Colby would always be there for him, he knew that. But what he wanted from him was so much more than a simple friendship. Even if that was good enough for them, it hurt so much._

"_We could… I don't know; get some coffee someday, maybe? So we could talk?"_

"_Maybe," Charlie whispered. "Yeah, maybe." He could hear Colby take a deep breath immediately after._

_Colby didn't say a word. He stood there, waiting, barely smiling, until Charlie finished putting on his shirt and jacket and arranging his hair. The mathematician was about to leave the room, when his lover put a hand on his shoulder._

_Colby still remained silent. When Charlie turned around, the green-eyed agent handed him the briefcase he had forgotten to grab. Absently, Charlie reached for it and, without intending to, he touched his lover's fingers._

_Such simple contact with warm, smooth skin was clearly underestimated. One touch and Charlie was already facing an entire range of feelings he had never had towards anyone before. _

_It was always Colby, and no one but him._

"And then we left," Charlie concluded. "You know Larry, I was so worried about people finding out about Colby and I, about how much that could damage our careers…"

"Ah…"

"But now… Now I don't care. I mean, I do care because I love my job, but sometimes I wonder if it's worth keeping it at the risk of losing Colby."

Larry looked deep into Charlie's eyes and took a breath. "Mmm… I remember that conversation we had at the monastery about the five percent…"

"Five percent…" The number seemed to mean overwhelmingly little in that moment. Sometimes Charlie even wondered if he had been chasing a ghost ever since he had decided to ignore it. But he was aware of how shifty and confusing his mind has been – one day he wanted Colby back, the next day he wasn't sure if he deserved him.

"It was path of self-discovery that I witnessed there, Charles, and your eyes in that moment – they were full of truth and affection towards the person you care for the most, no matter what physical features are the material representation of his soul."

"Really?" Charlie asked, a little bit of joy reaching his heart.

"Yes. In strictly subjective terms, I think I could say that I'd swear it on Einstein's brain."

The answer, besides awkward, wasn't exactly positive. "Einstein's brain was cut into pieces and analyzed to see how different he was from the rest of men."

"And it revealed meanings that had been abandoned hundreds of years ago. For example, we could mention the connection between the brain's weight and intelligence." Larry walked around the room. "Ah, the human race… Men always go back to the ancient practices and theories, no matter how old they are, in an endless search of the truth."

Charlie took a deep breath, as Larry always found a way to surprise him with his peculiar view of the world. "That reminds me of Dr. Farrow… Didn't Don say he was on his way here?"

In that precise moment, a head popped out of the door and Dr. Farrow stepped into the room. "Did you just call me, Professor?"

For a moment, Charlie had the unsettling idea that the archeologist had been listening to his conversation with Larry. He had no idea how Dr. Farrow would find a gay relationship between an FBI agent and a mathematician who worked together, but just in case, he hoped the blue-eyed man hadn't heard anything. "Oh, please, come in," he said. "We were just saying how good it'd be to have you here, since we kind of need your help."

"Thanks to the fact that I've been reincorporated into the investigation, that will be possible. All right, let's see what we have here," Dr. Farrow muttered as he walked towards the desk. He stared intensely at the papers that laid on it and frowned. "Fractions."

"Exactly. We've been analyzing the robberies and according to our calculations, the items that were found at different people's houses belong to only six of the seventy four sets that were stolen."

"And from studying those six sets, there's a commonality between them - only one piece of each of them was buried," Larry added, pointing to the blackboard. There, the most important information had been written down.

Dr. Farrow kept looking at the pictures. He took one in particular and raised it in the air; then he started walking around the room. "Was there any other commonality?"

"Yeah. The artifacts always had representative figures of Horus and Set, those gods you told to us about the other day." The memory of the disgusting myth made Charlie queasy. "In fact, given the newest photos and data we received and David and Colby's research, the most important engraving was the Eye of Horus." Charlie wondered if Dr. Farrow would start walking in circles just like he and Larry had been doing, but the archeologist suddenly stopped in his tracks and with his back turned to them, said, "The Horus-eye fractions."

Charlie frowned. "What?" he asked as Dr. Farrow approached the blackboard, grabbed a piece of chalk and started writing something he couldn't fully understand in an Egyptian context.

Without a warning, Larry threw his hands in the air. "Oh, I see what you're saying, Christopher!" he exclaimed; he awkwardly walked towards the archeologist and muttered some things to him as the other man kept writing on the blackboard.

The image managed to disturb Charlie a little bit. Was that the way he and Larry looked like when they were working together? Was that the way they interacted? Similar questions started to pop inside his head, until Dr. Farrow turned around and repeated, "The Horus-eye Fractions," with a serious look on his face. He and Larry stepped aside the writings and Charlie got closer to the blackboard.

As soon as Charlie read what had been written, the emotion of having found something important filled his heart. "Are you saying that those fractions we came up with by analyzing the stolen sets are actually a representation of the Eye of Horus?"

Dr. Farrow nodded, and a little breathless, he started waving his hands. There was an explanation coming, and Charlie was eager to know more. "These fractions were commonly used in Ancient Egypt – they were even revealed in the Egyptian Mathematical Leather Roll, a mathematics text that was destined to be a source of information and methods for scribes. The measurement from what the group of fractions came from was the _hekat_, a unit of volume that was about a gallon, which was divided in parts in a progressive way…"

"I remember…" Charlie smiled. "1/2, ¼, 1/8, 1/16, 1/32 and 1/64. I know that Mathematical Roll you're talking about; it contains the solution of the Eye of Horus."

"Yes. The Eye of Horus, which was a symbol of god's protection and royal power, took in the fractions and even assigned every one of them different meanings."

Larry made a step forward, looking very excited. "Smell, sight, thought, hearing, taste and touch. This is such an entertaining way to quench our thirst for a greater knowledge while saving a part of history itself."

"This has to have some other meaning. This wasn't random," Dr. Farrow muttered, landing one hand on his chin.

Focused on what they had just come up with, Charlie nodded. "I agree. I'm going to work on those numbers and see if I can find another commonality I can link to the fractions."

"Okay, I'll see if I can make a search of possible meanings. Fractions like these… they're never quiet. They have so much to say." With a grin on his face, Dr. Farrow ran out of the office, but before crossing the threshold he turned around. "Hey, about that hiatus in your relationship with Agent Granger," he said, and Charlie's breath got caught in his throat, "it sounds like he's a keeper." The archeologist leaned an arm on the doorframe and looked into Charlie's eyes across the room. "Talk to him, that's all you gotta do."

Immediately after, he was gone, and Charlie realized that his fears had come true. Even if it seemed that Dr. Farrow didn't have a problem with relationships between two men, the fact that he knew about Charlie and Colby's connection didn't thrilled the mathematician. He coughed, looked at Larry and then took the piece of chalk Dr. Farrow had just left. "It seems that Dr. Farrow likes to go around giving advice when it's not needed."

"More like his character tends to offer suggestions when a cloak of silence would be the most appropriate response," the physicist thoughtfully muttered, as he took another picture and his forehead creased in a moment of deep concentration.

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_**A/N: FEEDBACK IS LOVE.**_


	10. No plan

**Title:** "No plan"

**Series: **_In the Arms of the Wicked_, Part 10/?

**Characters:**David, Don, Megan, OMC, Ian, mention of Charlie/Colby.

**Rating:** M.

**Spoilers:** Season 5.

**Warnings:** Mention of rape.

**Summary:**"How much more do you want to mess things up?"

**Feedback:** I love it! C'mon, share your thoughts.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything except my OCs.

**Beta:** Thanks to my amazing beta.

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**In the Arms of the Wicked**

**Part 10****: "No plan"**

As soon as David entered the FBI office again, he noticed Don, Ian and Megan's eyes on him. The agents were in different places – she was at her desk talking to a man who seemed to be the Egyptian Consul, while the boss and the sniper were in the interrogation room, talking to a suspect.

While he walked towards his own desk, David knew all the questions they wanted to ask him. _How did the appointment go? How did Charlie react? Is Colby okay? Are _you_ okay? _Of course, he could answer those questions one by one, but he really wasn't in the mood to do it. For some reason, he felt annoyed and tired; all he wanted was to keep the negative thoughts locked in the darkest corner of his heart and do the job he was supposed to do, at least until the paternity test results were available.

"Good afternoon, I'm Special Agent David Sinclair," he introduced himself to the man that was talking to Megan. They immediately shook hands.

"Amun Mubarak, I represent the Egyptian Consulate in the United States of America. I'm pleased to meet you, even if what gathers us in this place is not exactly a pleasant matter," the man responded. There was still a strong reminiscence of the accent of his mother tongue in his pronunciation. He seemed to be very polite but also very determined; his dark skin and his short, straight hair gave him an intensely serious presence .

"It's true…"

Megan's voice sounded polite and transparent when she spoke. "The Consul was telling me that he's very worried about the disappearance and traffic of the pieces of art we found. The Egyptian Museum in Cairo has opened several investigations on them, but they didn't go too far."

"Ah," David muttered. "In that case, please, follow me." When Megan agreed, he guided the Consul into the war room, where he offered him a seat.

The Consul turned out to be extremely worried about the situation, just like Megan had said. He expressed how much his country was looking forward to recovering the stolen pieces, as they were a symbol of its land and a part of its culture, too. He offered any help that was needed from Egypt, even if the issue was U.S. jurisdiction.

"We're doing our best. We have several experts working on it," Megan assured him.

"Experts?" questioned Mubarak.

"Yes." She looked at David, silently seeking help to convince the Consul. "Dr. Christopher Farrow has agreed to help, for example," Megan explained, looking back at the Egyptian man.

"Ah, Dr. Farrow. I can assure you that my country will be very happy to have him on such an important case."

Looking a little surprised, Megan nodded. David couldn't blame her for being worried. He was wondering himself what had Dr. Farrow done that made everybody so pleased to have him around, when there were also so many weird and suspicious facts floating around about him.

"I'm going to see Don. I'll come back in a minute," David said when he saw Don and Ian yelling to the suspect in the interrogation room. He left Megan with the Consul and prepared himself to deal with a very angry boss and an annoyed sniper.

It wasn't even necessary for him to enter the interrogation room. Don left the room first, looking very mad, and ran into David in the corridor.

"How did things go in there?" David asked as they walked.

"The entire interrogation was a waste of time," his boss said. "That guy owned the backyard where the last pieces were found, and he's completely clean."

"That's impossible. How could the thieves bury the items without him noticing? I mean, there had to be some kind of sign on the grass, something out of place, maybe a…"

"And you don't think I know that, David?" Don had stopped walking but he was now yelling at his agent in frustration. "I spent one hour in there with Ian, and neither of us could get a damn lead to the bastards' location! There's not a single thing we can come up with to make that guy guilty of anything!"

Don's venting his frustration caused David to get angry, too. He had enough with the paternity samples and having to witness Colby not doing anything to get Charlie back; he didn't need his boss to start blaming him for things he hadn't done. "Hey, Don! Listen to me, there's no need to yell, okay? That's not my fault, do you understand me? So don't take it on me!" he stated, raising his voice a little bit more than was necessary.

Don calmed down and muttered, "I'm sorry, David, I'm sorry…" Then he gesture his agent to come into the tech room. Once in there, he found a lonely corner and continued, "I'm just… Forget it, okay? I'll be fine, and I'm sorry again that I yelled at you."

"But why are you so mad?"

"Let's talk about the tapes." Strangely, Don had refused to answer David's question and now he wanted to get into a discussion about a matter that was way over his head.

"There's nothing we can do about them. That Noah Cameron has them, McGowan told you that."

Looking significantly tense, Don walked around the room, running one hand over his face while he landed the other on his hips. "I have a plan."

David blinked once, then twice. "What?" he whispered, suddenly feeling the need of some air.

"You're not going to like it. In fact, you're going to hate it, probably more than I hate it myself, but it's the only way."

He was interrupted by the door being open. Ian entered the tech room and went towards Don and David, looking worried. "Don," he called, "is everything all right? You left the interrogation room all of a sudden."

"Yeah, I just needed some air. Things weren't exactly going well in there," Don answered.

"Well, then I'm going to get harder on the guy. We'll see if he can handle it." He gave the other agents his familiar scary, confident face before turning around and walking away.

Again, Don and David were left alone in that corner of the tech room, and the matter that had reunited them there hung in the air. After taking a deep breath, David walked towards his boss, licking his lips. "Don, there's no plan. Look, I know that you and I erased those files and that you agreed to it, knowing that you were risking your job." Don nodded while his agent kept talking. "But now I don't feel like fighting it anymore. Not after finding out that Amita is pregnant. I love my job and I think it's the only thing that will keep me sane, but if Cameron listens to those tapes and decides to suspend me for psychological treatment or anything, I'll take it. If that baby turns out to be mine… It would change everything." He looked into Don's eyes, trying to make his legs and arms stop trembling. "I'm not saying that I'd take care of that kid. I'm just saying that… if it's mine, then I don't know how I'd react, but I'm sure that I wouldn't give a damn about people knowing that Amita took advantage of me. A child born from a rape is far more terrible than everything else." David could feel Don's eyes on his and he could sense his heavy breathing, too.

Don's words seemed to belong to another person when he responded, "The plan…"

"I told you, Don, there's no plan! How much more do you want to mess things up?"

"What about Charlie and Colby, huh? What about their relationship, what about their jobs?"

The last thing David had thought about lately were the possible consequences of the tapes coming out for Charlie and Colby. He suddenly felt guilty, and he was out of words.

"I'm not asking you for permission to perform the plan, David," Don stated, with a dark look on his face. "I'm just informing you about it."

Even knowing that he was about to have a nervous breakdown, David was finally able to catch some air and put a couple of words together inside his mind. "Have you told Charlie what you're going to do?"

"No, but I will, eventually." Unexpectedly, Don's face turned from angry to furious, like if something had pulled the trigger, and he started walking towards the door. "I will, because I'm always there for him! Even if he doesn't give a crap telling his own brother that he's going to the hospital to take samples for a damn paternity test!" he yelled before slamming the door on the way out.

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_**A/N: FEEDBACK IS LOVE.**_


	11. Inside the briefcase

**Title:** "Inside the briefcase"

**Series: **_In the Arms of the Wicked_, Part 11/?

**Characters:**Ian/OMC, Larry, Charlie/Colby.

**Rating:** M.

**Spoilers:** None.

**Warnings:** Mention of rape.

**Summary: **Dr. Farrow hides something inside his briefcase.

**Feedback:** I love it! C'mon, share your thoughts.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything except my OCs.

**Beta:** Thanks to my amazing beta.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

**In the Arms of the Wicked**

**Part 11****: "Inside the briefcase"**

Sometimes working at CalSci was complicated. The heat was getting worse, and the air conditioner wasn't working properly; the center of the desk was covered by pictures, and several monitors that had been connected to laptops were also displaying enhanced photos of Egyptian statues and symbols. Three men worked intensely seated at the desk – Larry, Charlie and Dr. Farrow, keeping their eyes on the screens and typing but never without sharing their thoughts.

The work was exciting and challenging, finding the secret of the Eye of Horus-fractions seemed to be a good case to analyze. However, for Charlie, it was a good time to try to figure out Dr. Farrow, too. Since he had expressed himself on matters that only were Charlie and Colby's business, the mathematician had started to wonder if maybe Ian was right about him.

"Could this have a deeper meaning than the one we're looking for?" Larry asked.

While typing, Charlie shook his head. "Mmm… I don't think so. All these items could lead us to them, and I don't believe that's what the thieves want." He took a breath and then remembered he was supposed to share some news. "Ian called an hour ago. He and Colby are on their way here to see what we have so far."

"Ian… That's Agent Edgerton's first name, isn't it?" Dr. Farrow asked, and when Charlie looked up, he noticed that the other man was very focused on his research.

"Yeah…"

"I assume he's coming to check on me, among other things."

"I guess so."

"It is true that he's developed an intense feeling of doubt towards your person, Christopher," Larry added.

Again Charlie shook his head. "Apparently, the Eye of Horus was usually used as an amulet."

"That's correct," the archeologist muttered, as he took two pictures from the center of the desk. "It was painted in coffins, to guide the Deceased's way to the Beyond, allowing them to see the path to a better place. Is Edgerton always so serious?"

"_Yes_," both Charlie and Larry said in unison, never taking their eyes off their screens.

"Hmmm…"

"I can see what seems to be abnormality here," Larry pointed out.

Dr. Farrow frowned. "What is it?"

"Hieroglyphics omit the pupil of the Eye."

"That's common. The pupil is the piece that completes the symbol, as it is the part of it that actually allows seeing." He stopped for a moment and then continued, "He'll track me down no matter where I am, won't he?"

Charlie typed in the name of the Egyptian god Horus. "If by 'he' you mean Ian, then you can be sure he will."

Thoughtful, Larry said with a raspy tone of voice, "He's in constant pursuit of the truth, just like us scientists. He wants to be positive on whether you are an individual he can trust or not."

Dr. Farrow took a deep breath, the sound of it making Charlie wonder how many mysteries he was holding. "I can't find a connection between these fractions and the thieves. I've always had this problem when following the leads in my personal investigations."

"Have you worked on similar cases before?" Charlie wanted to know. If Dr. Farrow answered, he'd get the key to one of the main questions about him – why, according to Don and Ian, Noah Cameron and the Egyptian Consul wanted him on the case?

"Well, I tried," the archeologist responded. "I usually start my own research projects and work by myself, getting data from the staff of the Museum in Cairo and the Egyptian government, not to mention the FBI… Then I give feedback and help with the disappearances of new pieces."

"Oh, so you're not new to this, really."

"No, that's why I know this group we're chasing. But as you can see, even with all my knowledge and experience in the area, I haven't been very successful at catching these guys."

So that was the reason why everyone was pleased to know that Dr. Farrow was working on the case; he had experience on it, and he had probably made more progress on the investigations than anyone else, with his money and his apparently endless resources. But still, that didn't seem a completely satisfying response. Trying to tie other facts about the man, Charlie reached for one of the several cups of coffee that were on a chair beside him and sipped it slowly.

Now, the archeologist left the pictures he had been looking at in the center of the table and then ran his fingers over the keyboard again. "Have you talked to Granger, Professor Eppes?"

The question startled Charlie, who choked on his coffee, almost dribbling it over his chin. "I believe that's a personal matter…"

"And I don't have the right to give my opinion or advice, do I?"

Now Dr. Farrow stared at Charlie, and the mathematician got the feeling that he was going to be insulted for defending his private life. However, he realized that he was wrong when the archeologist leaned slightly on the table and fixed his eyes on him.

"Let me tell you something. I do understand that you don't want me to say a word about it. But you have to know this – sometimes, a silly advice from a stranger like me can save a relationship from falling apart."

Charlie stared back at him, tired of his suggestions about what to do about Colby; he liked discussing the issue with Larry, but he didn't like strangers getting in the way. He was about to reply when the physicist jumped into the conversation again, probably in an attempt to make the other two men calm down.

"Maybe this could be a fanatic group? Some kind of peculiar cult?"

Dr. Farrow took his eyes off Charlie and looked at his watch as he said, "Yeah, I've always thought that was very probable." He then immediately announced, "Excuse me, gentlemen, but I have to go. I'm supposed to take care of one of Larry's classes in less than five minutes."

"Ok…" Charlie ended up saying. There was no point in starting a discussion now.

"What's the classroom again?"

"I could guide you," Larry offered himself, getting up and walking awkwardly towards the door.

"All right, let's go. I'll be back soon, Professor." As if he was trying to put another meaning into his words, Dr. Farrow looked back at Charlie, took his briefcase and only after smiling briefly, he followed Larry on the way out of the office.

As he watched him leave the room, Charlie started feeling that Dr. Farrow was a suspicious character. What if the innocent verdict to the public scandal had been part of an arrangement between the judge and the archeologist? In a world where money wasn't a problem, that could have been possible.

Charlie shivered; in moments like these, he really hated being part of that wealthy elite, too.

**XxX**

"Can you walk, Larry?" Dr. Farrow asked as he and the physicist walked down the corridors of CalSci towards a particular classroom, which was in the next building.

Larry was having trouble following the other man's pace, but his mind was focused on stars, supernovas and Einstein's work. "I am perfectly capable of moving by using my own energy, don't worry. Besides, I think I'm close to a very interesting theory thanks to my limping…"

"Ah, I remember you telling me it helped you think…" Smiling, the archeologist and Larry left Charles' building and got out to the campus. The sun was starting to fall down in a beautiful sunset but activities seemed to be going to last longer; a university like CalSci was an extremely busy, and it was a very pleasant to be around such an atmosphere. That day, silence was covered by the laughs and voices of the students that were getting ready for their classes. Nature had its part in the conjunction of sounds of the end of the day, and the darkening surroundings strangely made all problems seem to be fixed… until Dr. Farrow looked at his briefcase and, without a warning, stopped walking.

Of course, Larry stopped in his tracks, too. "Is there something wrong?" he asked, glancing to see what kind of abnormality had caught his friend's attention.

"No, I just…" The other man's eyes were fixed on the letters that were engraved in the briefcase.

It was hard for Larry to remember the terrible story of Louis Terrence, the man who used to live in Dr. Farrow's Arizona house. "Oh… Those are Louis Terrence's initials," he muttered, a little afraid to bring up the subject. He truly believed that some memories should be left behind, even if they were some of the many factors that shaped an individual's character.

But Dr. Farrow looked around him and after a moment of silence he said, "It's okay, Larry. It doesn't hurt as much as it used to. Two years is a lot of time."

Still limping, the physicist managed to approach his friend and put a hand on his shoulder. "Sometimes, not even a century is enough to heal a wound of the heart." He looked into Dr. Farrow's eyes, catching traces of the pain he had been through after Louis Terrence had been murdered. That man would be certainly missed.

He jumped in his place when Dr. Farrow patted his shoulder in a sign of friendship, and he accepted the help the archeologist offered him so he could walk properly towards the classroom.

But Dr. Farrow unexpectedly froze and looked ahead. "Oh, no," he muttered, and he pushed Larry away and started running into the opposite direction. For a second, the physicist didn't understand the rationality behind Farrow's decision, but when a bullet came out of nowhere, he realized that his friend was only trying to protect him.

And he wasn't the only one. Ian and Colby's voices suddenly starting to shout, "Get down on the floor, get down on the floor!" but not even the presence of the FBI at CalSci seemed to stop the bullets. More of them flew through the air, and students ran away, screaming, dropping their stuff, trying to cover themselves.

"Larry, get down on the floor, do you hear me?" Dr. Farrow's voice yelled as he hid behind a statue. Larry crawled until he could stand behind the next one, and he felt himself trembling immensely as bullets hit his protective shield.

Everything happened so fast. In seconds, Colby ran to stand him, asked him if he was all right and tried to cover him with his body. As he covered his ears in desperation and curled up behind the base of the statue and Colby's body, Larry got the courage to look around and glance at Dr. Farrow and Ian.

Both men were covering themselves by using the next statue. The sniper was cursing for not being able to shoot back, given the presence of hundreds of innocent people. However, Dr. Farrow was anything but scared; he kept exposing his head to the shootings, as if he was trying to figure out who the shooter was.

Then, incredibly, he positioned himself behind Ian and took a gun out of his briefcase. He had obviously been carrying it all along, even at the office, while talking about the Eye of Horus… He loaded it so fast that no one saw him, not even Ian, who was probably wondering how many injured people he'd find when the attack was over. But when Ian noticed that Farrow had starting shooting back, his face turned into a furious, shocked expression Larry had never seen. Larry himself couldn't believe what he was seeing; he was learning so many things about his friend, things that he didn't like.

Screams were still all around, but the dangerous sound of bullets suddenly stopped. Colby took out his gun and held it tightly, staying alert, and Ian did the same thing. They looked at each other, and when the sniper nodded, Colby went to check the perimeter.

"Give me that!" Ian suddenly snapped. When Larry turned to look at him, he found the sniper trying to get Dr. Farrow to give him his gun.

"I've got a license, and I know how to shoot" the archeologist yelled back.

"Yeah, right!"

"I do, and if you don't want to believe me, then _fine_!"

Ian stared back at Dr. Farrow and then, without a warning, roughly pushed him onto the floor. The archeologist fell, dropping his gun, which Ian quickly grabbed. Neither said anything, because Colby was back.

"Nothing. It's clear. I don't know where the bullets came from. We should check on the students, it has to be one of some of them. So far, I haven't seen anyone wounded," Colby muttered. "Oh damn it, Charlie!" he said, and he ran towards his lover's building. Larry was sure that he wanted to be sure that a missing bullet hadn't reached the mathematician by any chance; just the thought of Charles being hurt or dead made the physicist almost lose his breath.

"Are you okay, Professor?" Ian asked Larry.

"Yeah… I think I am," the physicist responded. He saw Ian look back at Dr. Farrow, who remained on the floor.

"What the hell were you thinking, huh?" the sniper yelled at him. "Opening fire _here_, in a _public place_?"

"_No_, I was trying to…!"

"Don't you dare saying a word to me right now. I swear that if I hear you one more time, I…" Thankfully, Ian's cell phone rang, and he had to pick up the call. "It's Colby," he announced. "Professor Eppes is okay, don't worry."

Larry felt his heart starting to beat normally. At least some good news. But the fight between Ian and Dr. Farrow wasn't over yet.

"You're going to come with me to the FBI. _Now!_" the sniper shouted, but the archeologist didn't move, so he grabbed him by his clothes and made him get on his feet. "_Get up!_"

This time, Dr. Farrow did nothing but what he had been asked to do.

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_**A/N: FEEDBACK IS LOVE.**_


	12. Danger for fun

**Title:** "Danger for fun"

**Series: **_In the Arms of the Wicked_, Part 12/?

**Characters:**Ian/OMC, Don, Larry, Charlie, Megan, Carl.

**Rating:** M.

**Spoilers:** Season 5.

**Warnings:** None.

**Summary:**Ian finds out about the link between Dr. Farrow and the FBI.

**Feedback:** I love it! C'mon, share your thoughts.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything except my OCs.

**Beta:** Thanks to my amazing beta.

**Special thanks to:** harknessgirl and Lily G, who are always so supportive.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

**In the Arms of the Wicked**

**Part 12****: "Danger for fun"**

"I knew it. I should have taken him down as soon as he came into that office."

"You knew the rules, Ian. You acted according to them. There was nothing that could tie Farrow to the case."

Ian turned his eyes away from the interrogation room which held Dr. Farrow and fixed them on Carl for a moment. When Agent McGowan stepped aside, the sniper watched Dr. Farrow behind the glass one more time. Contrary to what was expected, the man didn't seem to care that he was in there or that he could be considered to be a new suspect; he had asked for a piece of paper and a pen, and he was writing furiously, as if his life depended on it.

"Christopher would never do anything that could potentially hurt innocent people, much less students," Fleinhardt suddenly said, making Ian turn around and look at him.

There were a lot of people outside the interrogation room, looking at Dr. Farrow; Professor Eppes and Professor Fleinhardt, Carl and Don.

"That's not what I saw," the sniper responded.

Clearly worried, the physicist pointed an index finger at Ian and continued, "I think that underestimating my opinion and personal knowledge of him could lead you to making an incorrect decision."

"The FBI doesn't depend on hunches or friendship, Professor Fleinhardt," Carl said as he folded his arms.

_No, not exactly._ "Unless you know Security Clearance EAD Noah Cameron. Then, things get so much easier," Ian muttered, and he was sure that his comment would upset Carl, but he didn't care. He still couldn't let go of the fact that Dr. Farrow had contacted one of the top people at the FBI and as a result, had a lot of power in his hands.

"According to Charles' and my own testimony, there was no sign at all that Christopher intended to use that fire weapon," Fleinhardt added.

"I don't know, Larry." Professor Eppes shook his head. "We were in that room with him, and as we talked about the Horus-eye fractions and other fascinating mathematical issues, he seemed to be a lot more interested in personal matters and… Ian."

"Oh, really?" Ian muttered, barely surprised by the news. Since he'd had his first encounter with Dr. Farrow, he'd had the feeling that the guy would like to work on a way to get away with whatever he was up to.

"Yeah… He started asking these questions, like for example, if you'd be able to track him down wherever he went, or if you trusted him or not."

"That doesn't sound exactly like mild curiosity to me," Don pointed out.

"I agree, Don," Carl said, taking a step forward. "It's more than worth it to undertake some _very_ deep research on the doctor. In fact, I'd say it's a top priority when it comes to this case."

Immediately, Don prepared himself to come into the interrogation room, but it seemed that Fleinhardt wasn't done defending his friend yet. "It's just his personality. He's got ways to deal with the kind of life he has. And yes, he can be stubborn and sarcastic sometimes, but he doesn't have the type of character that's likely to commit a crime like stealing – especially when those pieces of art are an object of his veneration." The conversation was getting warmer and warmer and Fleinhardt's cheeks were starting to get some color.

"Excuse me, Larry, but that's precisely why he would want those statues – to add them to his personal collection," Don responded. "Charlie said a while ago that he found out that Farrow has access to classified information both in Egypt and in the US, even within the FBI…"

"And tens of other countries…"

"Which makes him the perfect person to manage a crime organization like the one we're looking for without anyone noticing."

"That description could easily fit a hundred other people who are devoted to Archeology in this country, not to mention thousands if we consider the entire globe."

"Well, I don't see them shooting people in the middle of CalSci while working on a case that involves the stolen pieces."

Fleinhardt took a deep breath. "Listen to me, the point is you don't understand Christop-"

"The point is that he opened fire when there were students around him and it doesn't really matter if he wanted to do it or not, since he did it anyway," Don stated, waving his hands and angrily walking around the room. "He had a gun in that briefcase of his. Why the hell was he carrying it around all day, huh? What was he afraid of?"

The physicist looked at one of the desks and landed his palms on both sides of his face. He looked very tense when he muttered, "It is not my place to say."

Ian couldn't blame Fleinhardt for feeling intimidated or offended by Don's words, as for the past few hours, the oldest Eppes brother had been acting even weirder than before. He kept behaving like he was really annoyed by an issue he refused to talk about.

After a long moment in which everyone remained silent, Don said, "Well, okay, then," and walked towards the interrogation room.

_You're not going in there like that._ In seconds, Ian's arm barred Don's way, keeping him away from the door. "Don… I'll take care of it." He felt the other man's doubts through his eyes, but he never retreated. He even looked at Carl, knowing that Don would follow his gaze, and got a nod in approval. Finally, Don raised his hands in a sign of surrender and walked away from the door.

Ian took a look at the room full of people, catching Professor Eppes' worried eyes on his brother and Carl's focused face as he started watching Dr. Farrow again. Larry kept rubbing his hands, as if he was afraid of what might happen inside the interrogation room. It would be Ian's job to find it out. So without saying another word, Ian walked in and he sat on the table, folding his arms and staring directly at Dr. Farrow. The archeologist didn't stop writing on the piece of paper he had been given, until apparently he was finished. Then he slid the paper over the table towards Ian.

"Give this to the owner of the house where the last piece was found," he said. Ian didn't answer. "If he shows signs of knowing what these symbols mean, then he's part of the organization, trust me." Again, there was no response. "All right, if we're going to play…"

"I'm not here to play." They stared at each other, and Ian sensed that Dr. Farrow was trying to read his mind. So he said, "You opened fire at CalSci when you know you had hundreds of students around you who could get hurt or even killed, and you pretend…"

"Did anyone get hurt?"

"No."

"Okay. I know I made a mistake anyway."

Farrow's face was serious and even a little worried now. Getting a little honesty from him was nice for a change, but Ian didn't completely buy it. "You carried a gun inside your briefcase."

"It's for my own safety, because I'm in the middle of an ongoing investigation. I told you, I have a license, and I'm allowed to use it."

"That's true, we checked it out. Who did you buy it from, exactly?"

"I got it the traditional way. Not the black market, if that's what you mean," Farrow seemed to feel offended. "I understand that my lifestyle can bring up lots of ideas about how I get things, but I don't like taking much advantage of my fortune." Ian snorted. "It's the truth, believe it or not. I don't know why I bother to explain these things to you, though. Nothing I do seems to suit you."

"Can you blame me?" The silence that followed made it evident that Ian was right. "Who's following you?"

"I have no idea."

"Could it be someone within the organization who didn't like you very much? Or maybe someone you didn't sell the pieces of art to?" After saying this, Ian analyzed the way Farrow reacted. He noticed that the man's forehead creased in surprise while his cheeks blushed furiously in anger.

"_What?_" the archeologist finally said. "Look, I don't know who could have been the one who shot at me, okay? I just thought about protecting myself and Larry; I didn't think of the consequences, that I admit. But stealing and selling those statures in the black market, or even exposing them to the damage of being buried… I'd never… I _live_ because of these ancient cultures. They're what I love the most about my job and the different areas I work in. They're pretty much everything I have."

The lines of his face built a troubled expression and for a moment Ian believed him, but he couldn't make up his mind about the guy yet. There were so many things he needed to know first. Slowly, the sniper got closer to Dr. Farrow and asked, "What about EAD Noah Cameron? What do you have to do with him, exactly?"

The next moments were strange. A big revelation had to be about to come up, since Farrow stared at his entwined hands for a minute; sometimes he even bit his bottom lip, as if he had doubts on whether to tell the truth or not. But he finally spoke, and what he had to say surprised Ian. "Noah and I – we have an agreement. I put myself at risk while trying to figure out these thieves. That way, he gets someone who's qualified enough to guide the investigations and make progress on them, no matter how little or slow the results are."

_This has to be a joke._ Ian didn't say anything, he just kept thinking about what things the Bureau was capable of doing as long as they got answers. In the meantime, Farrow kept talking.

"The FBI is really interested in finding those pieces, as the Egyptian government is following their footsteps. They don't want to make any mistakes."

"Do they pay you to put yourself at risk?"

"No. I pay _them_," Farrow stated.

Ideas were popping out into Ian's head after hearing that. _So, besides being unbearable, you're nuts._

"I even put up a couple of million for Larry's space travel two years ago. It was a fascinating project, really. I wanted to collaborate."

That was another surprise. "I didn't exactly see you in that rocket beside him waving the Earth good-bye."

Dr. Farrow smiled. "Ha… That's true. But I had another matters to take care of here."

"Oh, I'm sure," Ian answered sarcastically, as he got up from the table and walked around. "I don't buy it. Why would you pay them to get shot at?"

"Because… it'd be fun."

Amused by how rich people understood the fine line between life and death, the sniper turned around and leaned on the table. "You use your money to buy danger… for _fun_."

"I'm bored, all right? I don't care if that's a valid excuse for you or not. But are you going to tell me that you've never done your job -even if it's dangerous- just because it's fun, too?"

_It's not that much about the fun of it._ "You'll have to give me more than that."

Farrow took another breath. "Millionaire's lives are monotonous. I can have everything I want, but I hate it most of the time. Having access to money is okay, but only to do meaningful things like research…"

"… and stealing from the Cairo Museum."

"Would you stop that and listen to what I'm saying? God…"

Slowly, Ian approached the archeologist. _I am listening, but all you say sounds like a big, fat lie._ "If I find out that you're lying to my face, you can be sure I'll hit you. _Hard_."

Defiantly, the other man closed a bit the distance between them and muttered, "Well, it doesn't matter if I'm telling the truth or not - I'll be waiting for that punch anyway, since you want it so badly."

Ian could almost feel Farrow's breath on his face, but he confidently retreated, wanting to listen to other people's opinion about the conversation that had just taken place. He walked out of the room without grabbing the piece of paper the archeologist had written, and joined Don, Carl and the others. Reeves had also joined them, and apparently she had been analyzing Farrow's responses and behavior during the discussion.

"He seems to be honest, judging from what I see," she explained. "But of course, we need more than that, we need evidence."

"I know," Ian responded. "But he's got something to do with all this, he really does." However, there was an issue he wanted to discuss more than that one. He turned to Carl, who was standing in the end of the room. "So that's what links him to Cameron? A stupid adventure that puts the crazy archeologist in danger and benefits the FBI?"

Carl spent a moment in silence, looking into Ian's eyes, and then he stated, "We don't do that."

"He's _bait_," the sniper stated.

Confidently, agent McGowan smiled. "You know, Ian, I've always had the best impression of you. I thought you knew that what my superiors do is not my responsibility, anyway."

"What do we do now?" Professor Eppes snapped, catching Ian's attention. "I mean, he's still in that room, does he get to walk away?"

"Yeah, what's going to happen to Christopher?" Fleinhardt asked, as Reeves put a hand on his shoulder.

Don raised his voice. "Like Megan said, we need evidence. And maybe if we…" When his cell phone rang, he took the call. "Eppes." Suddenly, he frowned. "Okay, wait a second." He looked at everyone in the room, but especially at Carl, as if he was looking for approval. "There's a man outside who claims he's got something about the case… Apparently, he's Farrow's employee…"

"Sergio?" Ian asked.

"Yeah, that's the name."

"Then let him in. Let's see what the butler's got for us."

When Carl nodded, Don arranged everything for Sergio to come in. Everyone waited for him at their desks, but when the man came in, he didn't pay attention to them; all the wanted, apparently, was seeing his boss. He kept looking around, trying to find out where Farrow was, until Ian said, "Hey, Sergio! Here."

Sergio seemed to recognize Ian, as he walked towards him in a second. "Where's Christopher? I've got something from him."

"Hey, hold on. You're his employee and you talk to him like that?" Don asked, looking a bit confused. He looked at Ian, probably expecting an explanation.

"Don't ask," the sniper preferred responding. _Trust me, not knowing is better._

"What is it that you have to give your boss?" Reeves wanted to know.

Looking scared, Sergio shook his head. "No. I will only talk to Christopher."

Reeves cocked her head, and Don muttered, "Fine. Follow me."

As soon as Farrow was visible through the glass of the interrogation room, Sergio ran towards the door, opened it and approached his boss. Farrow apparently couldn't believe he was at the FBI. "Sergio, what's going on? Why are you here?"

"I thought you'd want me to give you this…" As Ian and the rest of the team entered the room, Sergio took out of his pocket a tiny envelope; it seemed that he was trying to hide it from everyone's view. Farrow stared at it and then at the people who surrounded him.

"It's all right, I've got nothing to hide," he said before taking the envelope and opening it. He took out a little note and read it. His face suddenly turned into a shocked expression. "Oh, no."

"What is it?" Professor Eppes asked. "What does it say?"

"I can't believe…" Farrow continued, and he threw the note and the envelope to the table.

Don reached for it and read it out loud, while the archeologist grabbed his head and Sergio's hands trembled. "Working with the FBI won't take you to the Fields of Hotep." He looked at Reeves and Ian. "There is a message for you in Arizona. Unbury it. Enjoy it. Breathe it. It is what you deserve."

"That's the language of a cult," Fleinhardt snapped. "They mention the Fields of Hotep – those are the Heavens Egyptians believe in. They're really sending out a message for Christopher."

_As if things weren't complicated enough already… _Ian shook his head."What the hell could that be?"

"They buried something in my Arizona house, of _course_!" Farrow suddenly yelled.

Evidently, Reeves had doubts about that. "How could they do that? Someone like you must have security there."

"I do, I do… only when I'm there. It's a secret location where no one can find me. I don't even let guards remain at the house if I'm not staying, so no one suspects that eventually there could be people living in it." Farrow took a deep breath and turned around. "I'm telling you, you can be sure that if the guy that's in the other interrogation room is involved in the case, he'll know what my note says." Again, he pointed at the piece of paper he had been writing before Ian's interrogation started.

"You want us to give that to the owner of the house where the pieces were found?"

"Yes."

She stared at him for a moment, but she still took the note. "Okay." She left, and when Ian followed her with his eyes, he noticed that Carl was making a phone call. He looked determined and from some words the sniper could catch, he was already telling someone about the message in Arizona.

"Did I do well by bringing the letter, Christopher?" Sergio asked.

"Yes, yes… You did well. Trust me."

"This has to mean something else. They didn't just say 'unbury it,' they also said, 'enjoy it' and 'breathe it.' It is a personal matter," Fleinhardt said.

"They also said you deserved it," Ian added.

Farrow fixed his eyes on him. "That's exactly what I'm afraid of."

"What did you do?"

"Why do you always assume that _I _did something?"

Ian was about to respond when Reeves came into the room again. "Stanley Hopkins doesn't understand what you've written here. These are all symbols."

"That's classified data I got access to a year ago. It's the old code the organization used to communicate with each other," Farrow explained. "It didn't include hieroglyphics, but it was based on them."

"I see that it's very simple," Professor Eppes agreed, as he took the code from Reeves' hands. "Each symbol has a correspondence with the sound of a hieroglyphic." Everyone landed their gaze on him. "I read a couple of things about hieroglyphics today. Dr. Farrow, Larry and I have been looking up the Horus-eye fractions and… Okay, imagine that…"

"I've got news for your team, Don," Carl's voice said all of a sudden, interrupting Professor Eppes' speech. "EAD Cameron has made a decision about this situation."

Ian folded his arms, wondering what Cameron would have to say about a case in which he'd be responsible if Farrow got himself killed.

"He wants whatever it is that's in Farrow's property unburied and analyzed. He wants him to follow the organization's orders," McGowan informed everyone. Then he looked at Ian. "And he also wants someone there with him. Someone who follows the rules. Someone we can trust blindly."

_You've got to be kidding me._ "I'm not a bodyguard," the sniper replied. _Even if Farrow already stated that I am to the press._

"No, you're not. But Cameron says you'll do it anyway."

Annoyingly, Carl was right. Ian was capable of doing anything as long as the case would be solved and the pieces of art restored and shipped to Egypt again. But most important, he'd do it because he didn't like little know-it-alls like Farrow to get away with it. "True. When do we leave?"

"In six hours. You, Farrow and Sergio. You three get ready, and the rest of you, work on that code." After saying that, Carl started making another phone call and left the interrogation room.

Suddenly, Ian's phone rang, and as he usually did, he looked at the Caller ID. He refused to answer the call. Oh, no. _You swallow your words. I'm not in the mood to talk to you._

"Are you sure you'll be able to handle it?" Don whispered to him, looking slightly worried, probably because of the way Farrow and Ian got along.

"Of course," the sniper answered, smiling. Then he turned to Farrow, whose mouth was barely open. "So… it seems that we're going to spend a lot of time together from now on."

The archeologist looked at him, folded his arms, muttered, "Oh, for God's sake…" and shook his head. But Ian was satisfied. From now on, whatever Farrow did, it would be impossible for him to run away.

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_**A/N: FEEDBACK IS LOVE.**_


	13. Algebra

**Title:** "Algebra"

**Series: **_In the Arms of the Wicked_, Part 13/?

**Characters:**Colby/Charlie, Megan, David, Ian/OMC.

**Rating:** M.

**Spoilers:** None.

**Warnings:** None.

**Summary:**Colby discovers that if he really wants something, he has to go for it.

**Feedback:** I love it!  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything except my OCs.

**Beta:** Thanks to my amazing beta.

**Author's note:** This had to happen eventually. Happy New Year, everyone!!!

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**In the Arms of the Wicked**

**Part 13****: "Algebra"**

The news about Ian going to Arizona to protect Dr. Farrow from a band of thieves as he unburied a surprise had spread across the FBI office in less than half an hour. Soon, it got to Colby and David's ears. They had just arrived when they heard about it for the first time.

"How much time do you think those two will last in the same house?" David asked as they entered the break room, followed by Megan. Strangely, he seemed not to be as stressed as when the samples for the paternity test had been taken. Immediately, Colby was glad about it, even if his own mind was off thinking about something else.

"I don't know, but I hope that whatever is buried is out of the ground soon," Megan responded, as she went towards the coffee machine. "Did something happen, David? You look calm… you know, considering all that happened."

The question didn't seem to take David unguarded. He sat on a chair and explained, "After going to the hospital, I made a decision. I called my sister Jay and asked her to meet. I miss her and it'll be great to see her."

Colby had never seen Jay, but he knew why David actually wanted to see her – to talk to her about the changes in his life. Family was always a safe shelter; sometimes, Colby wished his wasn't so problematic.

"I think that's great," Megan said, looking at David. Then she turned to Colby "Was there anything interesting during the shooting, besides Farrow's gun?"

_The fact that Charlie didn't get hurt, definitely._ "Well, yeah… We couldn't find the shooters anywhere. It was only Ian, me and CalSci Security, but we weren't enough – there were too many students… A couple of them must have been the shooters, and now they're free. That's what doesn't make any sense…"

"Colby?"

"Hmm?"

"You're smiling."

Suddenly, Colby realized that the corners of his mouth were up in a little smile. "Ah… It's… it's nothing."

"Where were you during the two hours? I couldn't contact you."

"I went out… You know, to think."

"Did anything good come out of that?" Megan asked, pouring coffee in three cups.

Colby sat on a chair facing the door and muttered, "It's just that I've realized… that things aren't as bad as I thought." A little embarrassed, he caught Megan glancing at David.

"That sounds like a lot of thinking, Granger."

"Yeah..." Colby took a deep breath and smiled. "For a while, I also looked for a nice coffee shop that's near here… You know, if I ever want to have a meaningful conversation with someone, I need to find the right place…" Colby stopped when he saw that his best friend was smiling at him.

"So I guess this is all about Charlie."

Shyly, Colby rubbed the back of his neck and nodded. He wondered if he was also blushing, because usually these kinds of talks made him feel a little bit awkward. But when Megan offered him a cup of steaming coffee, he knew that she and David were happy that he and Charlie were trying to go back to what they used to have.

"I'm happy for you, man," David said, after taking a sip of his coffee. "Having someone here who's getting his life back gives hope to the rest of us."

Aware of the meaning of that, Colby nodded again and sipped his own coffee, until Megan's voice startled him.

"So, when are you guys going to talk?"

"I don't know… Soon, I guess."

"Why don't you just ask him to go get that cup of coffee tonight?" A smile spread over her lips as she waved her cup to Colby.

"I'm not sure if that would be right. I mean, we've got work to do and besides…" Without expecting it, from the corner of his eye Colby caught Charlie coming out of an office with Larry. They were waving their hands, apparently discussing about something related to a piece of paper the mathematician was holding.

There was something Colby couldn't help noticing, as he always did. It was the way Charlie moved, the way his face changed slightly with every single gesture and every single word, the way he slowly became passionate about the math related to the case. It was fascinating and truly inspiring to be around someone like him.

As Colby kept looking at his lover, he listened to David and Megan's voices.

"Colby, sometimes it's not about waiting for the right moment, it's about going for it and creating your own," his partner said.

"That's deep thinking for you, too," Megan muttered. "I'm impressed… and happy for you, guys."

"Yeah, well… Life takes you where it takes you, so you gotta deal with it and try to fix things yourself. No one's going to do it for you."

_No one's going to do it for you…_ Something clicked inside Colby's mind as he watched Charlie talk. "You know what? You're right," he said to David; he left his cup of coffee on the table on the way out and met his lover on his way out of the office. He just wanted to make a step forward with Charlie and fix things once and for all.

"Hey," he said to Charlie, who took his eyes off the encrypted piece of paper. Larry waved his hand at them and made some gestures that clearly indicated that he'd leave them alone.

"Hey," the mathematician greeted him back, but he immediately frowned. "Are you okay? I was wondering where you were. You disappeared after the shooting… You left my office saying you were going to check the perimeter again and you never came back… For a moment, I thought you…"

Colby rapidly got the idea and explained what had happened to him. "No, no, I'm all right, nothing bad happened to me. I just needed… some air."

"Air. Oh, all right… I understand. Then I guess I will go and work on this code…" Charlie's eyes were full of disappointment.

"Do you have to stay here to do it?"

"Well, not exactly, but… why?"

"Could we take a break from being here? It'd be only for a couple of hours…"

"A break? Um… I'm not sure I follow…"

Charlie looked truly clueless in that moment, so Colby asked a direct question. "Would you like to get a cup of coffee with me tonight?" He felt his heart jump inside his chest when his lover's tense face relaxed and turned into a smile.

"Yeah, I'd like that."

"Good, good," Colby muttered, trying to hide his excitement so he didn't scare Charlie. "See you outside in five?"

"Sure." It was so strange to see Charlie blushing and smiling after so long. They hadn't talked much, not even at his office after the shooting. It was so amazing to finally get a bit of hope.

"Ok, then."

"Ok, then."

Colby watched Charlie walk away to get his things, and when he turned to the break room, he saw David and Megan smiling back at him, raising their coffee cups. He rubbed the back of his head again, trying to focus on how he would manage spending some time alone with Charlie for the first time in days.

**XxX**

It was a beautiful night to stay outside watching the stars. Maybe there was a lot of work to do inside, maybe there were Cairo thieves to catch, but that didn't mean Colby and Charlie couldn't have something somewhat close to their first date.

Colby's lips curved in a crooked smile when he heard someone behind him, walking towards him. He knew those footsteps well; they were different from everyone else's. "Hey," he muttered as he turned around. "Is everything okay?" he asked, just in case, because Charlie was carrying a giant briefcase.

"Yeah… Everything's fine. Well, I was just wondering if you didn't mind me working on the case while we talk?"

It was weird to get such proposal. Supposedly, Colby and his lover were going to talk about _them_, about what could happen when Amita's child was born, and not about Dr. Farrow. But then again, if Colby said that he wanted Charlie to concentrate on personal issues, he'd probably make him want to stay at the office, working on numbers. "Sure, no problem," he ended up responding, feeling a bit disappointed. "The coffee shop is two blocks away from here. It has a nice atmosphere."

Colby noticed that Charlie was shuddering. Was he afraid of the talk they were about to have? If that was the case, the green-eyed agent would have to convince him not to back out. He had already experienced what Charlie was capable of doing a few months ago; he didn't want their relationship's hiatus to be longer than it already was.

The two blocks until they got to the coffee shop seemed to be endless. They kept looking at the floor, sometimes at the buildings, and occasionally at one another. In those little moments, Colby couldn't help but smile to make Charlie comfortable; he was rewarded by a little smile back every time.

"Okay, here it is," he said when they stopped in front of a big, beautiful shop, where the tables were lightened by tiny golden bulbs. Wood furniture could be seen inside; it was a nice place, it looked pretty different than the usual coffee shop where people just passed by to get a cup of coffee and go to work.

"The angles, the lighting," Charlie whispered, and then he walked in. Colby followed him and once they were inside, his lover looked at back at him. "You've made an excellent choice, Colby."

"Thank you… I thought you'd like it," he muttered, feeling a big overwhelmed.

They sat at a table in a calm and a bit dark corner where they could talk. There was soft music playing in the background, and there weren't many people around.

A little nervous, Colby didn't say a word as he watched Charlie take off his jacket; he looked so well with his messy hair barely touching his white shirt. He was also wearing a tie; there was nothing sexier than that.

Charlie opened his briefcase and took out his laptop, a note book, some markers and the piece of paper he had been analyzing earlier. He put everything on the table and started typing, as if there was no one else with him. It was awkward. In fact, it made Colby start feeling as if his being there didn't make any difference to Charlie at all.

Discouraged, Colby tried not to push his lover. Maybe Charlie wasn't ready to talk, maybe he needed some time… but when two minutes later the waitress approached them and asked them what they were going to have, Charlie paid attention to her.

After Colby had asked for an _espresso_, the other man looked up from his computer, said, "Just a cup of black coffee for me, thanks," and got back to his analysis.

As he shook his head, Colby started getting annoyed. Being scared was okay, but Charlie doing this to him wasn't. He tried to breathe normally, but Charlie's attitude was hurting him so much that finally he got the urge to open his mouth and say it.

"Here it is. Thank you," the waitress interrupted him before he started, bringing them what they had asked for. However, she was soon gone, while Colby's intention to talk wasn't. He made another attempt to express himself.

Unexpectedly, the mathematician threw his markers to the table, miraculously not hitting the cups of coffee. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he excused himself, as he covered his face with his hands. "I didn't mean to…" He put his hands away, resting them on the table, not looking at Colby. "I didn't mean to not talk to you since we got here. When I agreed to come, I didn't think… I didn't think this would be so hard to handle."

As much as Colby wanted to protest before, Charlie's expression held a sincere apology. So he put away his anger and said, "It's not easy for me either, but we can't continue like this." Then he sipped his coffee as he waited for Charlie to calm down; he was pleased to see him put his computer and everything else aside. Still, the mathematician didn't touch his black coffee.

"Colby, when the paternity results are ready -and that will be in a month, by the way-, things could change… a lot."

"I know." Colby stared at his own hands holding the cup; then he looked up at his lover and continued, "But it doesn't matter if it's your child or not; you can always count on me, Charlie. I want you to know that." Still, Charlie fixed his eyes on the table. Colby could see the way his throat moved, swallowing in hesitation, so he leaned on the table and whispered, "I mean it. _This_, what we have… it has to remain strong no matter what, okay?" Charlie finally looked up; Colby sensed that he wasn't sure yet. "Do you understand me?"

Holding Colby's gaze, Charlie nodded slowly. "Mmhm." In this opportunity, it seemed that he had really got that his lover wanted him back.

But just in case, Colby asked, "Are you okay?"

Charlie ran his hands over his curly hair before answering. He smiled tenderly at his coffee as he talked. "It's just that it's really nice to hear that. I thought I had lost you. I was afraid I had made a huge mistake, and…"

"Hey, it wasn't your fault. If that kid turns out to be your son, he or she was conceived _before_ you were with me. You didn't cheat on me, so don't feel like you did something wrong."

The little smile on Charlie's face was suddenly gone, and it was replaced by a worried expression. "You're right. I didn't cheat on you; I cheated on Amita, and she didn't deserve it."

Admitting that wasn't hard, since it was the truth, but Colby preferred to remain silent and concentrate on his coffee.

"Sometimes I wonder if this hell we're going through isn't our punishment," Charlie added. "I had a dream a few of days ago… You were in the corner of a room and all of a sudden the walls disappeared. There was water everywhere… and you were drowning. I tried to help you… and I couldn't."

Colby kept to himself the words he wanted to say and let his lover finish. Blushed, Charlie started running his hands over the edges of his cup of steaming coffee.

"You could say it was a silly dream, but it was horrible for me. I felt that after what Amita had done to you, you would end whatever it is that we had… that you were going to leave me."

Slowly, Colby reached for Charlie's hand and squeezed it. He leaned on the table again, and when his lover turned to him, he muttered, "Charlie… I would _never_ leave you. You can be sure of that."

Charlie lowered his head, not reacting to Colby's touch. "But what about what she did to you? You're not going to recover from that just like that."

"Well, that's why I need you," Colby responded in a second, letting Charlie know that he wanted him there, with him, while he tried to get over the memories of Amita taking advantage of him and the voice of David talking about his rape. Then he let go Charlie's hand.

A spontaneous expression came to the mathematician's face, and he smiled, running one hand over his chin. Shyly, he looked at his laptop screen.

"What is it that you're working on?"

"A code Farrow told us about. Apparently, it's already broken… which I don't get."

"What do you mean?"

"I was talking to Larry… you know, before you asked me to come here," Charlie muttered, smiling widely, but then he became serious again, "and we agreed on running Farrow's numbers again."

"I take it as he made a couple of mistakes."

"Probably, but we're not sure yet. At first sight, I said that it was okay, but after taking a better close at it…"

"… which I assume was a couple of minutes…"

"Yeah, exactly," Charlie responded, and Colby smirked, loving the way his lover's brain worked. "The point is that I could find other possible patterns, and that worries me. This code could be related to a completely different meaning."

"And what do you think it's based on?"

"Mmm… To be honest, I don't have any idea, yet. My knowledge on the Egyptian culture is not very deep. But with Larry and Farrow's help, I think I'll be able to find a solution for this."

Looking at the screen, which displayed hieroglyphics and their meanings, Colby couldn't help but asking, "And you trust Farrow?"

"I don't, but he's worked on this case for a long time, so we need his expertise. By the way, he got into our personal lives today before the shooting. He found out about us and our hiatus and he tried to offer advice."

"Really?" Colby frowned. "That's not good."

"I know, but now that Ian's with him, I don't think he'll cause anymore trouble." Grinning, Charlie started typing again.

"I'm glad I'm not in Arizona. That's going to be quite a show."

"Yeah… In the meantime, I gotta keep working on the Eye of Horus, too. It's all about fractions; it's simple algebra, it shouldn't represent much work." Charlie cocked his head and continued, "Algebra has a very interesting meaning itself, did you know that? It's tied to a mathematical concept, but it also means reunion, restoration or connection."

"As in people getting together and bonding?"

"You know what? That would be a great way to explain it." Charlie's face lit up as he looked at the other man. His cell phone started ringing, and he immediately picked the call. "Hello? Really? Thank you so much, doctor. What time? Yes, that's all right, of course. Thanks again." After hanging up, he stared at the device. He seemed to be really pleased by the news.

"Who was it?"

"That was the doctor who's taking care of my dad and Liz. He says that they will be allowed to leave tomorrow morning, so we should be there to pick them up." Charlie swallowed, as happiness spread over his face. "Finally, it seems that some things are getting better. We're all going to get together…"

Feeling that contagious happiness running through his veins, an idea came to Colby's mind. "Algebra."

Charlie's excited reaction caught him by surprise, but when the mathematician reached for Colby's hand, he knew that everything would be all right.

"Yes, Colby. _Algebra_," Charlie agreed, smiling widely as he covered Colby's hand with his.

**XxX**

When Ian was asked to go to a private airport in the middle of the night, he cursed. Having something to do with a wealthy life really upset him. But when he was actually there, the idea of it was worse than that – a stunning jet, with lots of people waiting to serve whoever would pay enough money for it.

He stood in front of the incredible machine, thinking that the only reason why he'd get on it was solving a case. Besides, he hated luxury and he wouldn't enjoy any of the whims of celebrities, anyway.

"Good to see you!" someone said behind him, and of course, Ian recognized the voice. Dr. Farrow was coming towards him after talking to Don and a couple of other FBI agents, who had probably given him standard instructions about what to do if something bad happened. He was in his casual wear, completely dressed in black and carrying a briefcase –Ian would have to keep an eye on it-, while two strong men carried his luggage into the jet.

Just looking at him in all his glory was intoxicatingly annoying. Without a doubt, Ian approached him and said, "Hey, let's make something clear before this starts. I will keep an eye on you everywhere you go, whatever you do, so you better behave."

"I know. It's an_ undercover_ mission. I know how that works," Farrow answered, standing in front of Ian, very close to him.

"Really?" As he talked, Ian looked at Don, who was a few meters away, talking to his agents.

"I'm pretty sure, yes. I've been instructed by Agent Eppes, which was useful, but the truth is, my life is all about dangerous people not being able to find me. I'm used to it." The archeologist held Ian's gaze for a moment, then walked towards the jet. "Enjoy the trip, Agent Edgerton. Whatever you want, you can ask for it. I have it right here," he said before putting on his sunglasses and getting into the plane.

_Punk. He thinks he __leaves a big impression on people by wearing sunglasses and walking around as if nothing could scare him._ Shaking his head, Ian took out his own sunglasses, put them on and confidently walked towards the jet. A few seconds later, he stopped. An idea hit him, and he didn't like it at all. _Jesus. _He watchedDr. Farrow gesturing him to hurry, and shook the idea out of his head. _No. We don't have anything in common, not one stupid thing._

With that, he relaxed; but, just in case, he took off his sunglasses before he got into the jet.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

_**A/N: FEEDBACK IS LOVE.**_


	14. Hard decisions

**Title:** "Hard Decisions"

**Series: **_In the Arms of the Wicked_, Part 14/?

**Characters:**David, Don, Colby/Charlie, Larry/Megan, Alan, Liz, Amita.

**Rating:** M.

**Spoilers:** None.

**Warnings:** None.

**Summary:**_We're aware of this lie and yet we're all going to go with it. Even if it's obvious that it won't make things better._ _Let's see how it turns out._

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything except my OCs.

**Beta:** Thanks to my amazing beta.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

**In the Arms of the Wicked**

**Part 14****: "Hard Decisions"**

A hospital again…

But no tests today. This time, David actually wanted to be there. The perfume of the bouquet of white lilies he held whispered calmness and hope.

He had called Jay. His sister never disappointed him; she was always willing to talk, to listen to his doubts on his job and the life back in the Bronx. Her voice was always inside his head when he was going through a hard time. "Don't give up, David. Don't give up," she always said.

She was the only person who could save him from falling apart. Colby was his friend and his partner, a wonderful guy to talk to, but there were things that not even friendship could fix. Family, on the other hand, was a way to keep the balance right and stay away from the crazy life of an FBI job.

But there were people who really knew how to put a smile on David's face and who didn't exactly belong to his family. When he got to the room he was looking for, he smiled and leaned on the doorframe, hiding the bouquet from the other person's view. "Hey."

"Hey," Liz greeted him from her bed, as her lips curved in a friendly smile. "Come in, how are you?"

"Okay. I'm okay." David stepped into the room and let her see the flowers he had bought for her.

"Ah, David…" She seemed to be so happy, just by knowing that someone had taken the time to have a nice gesture towards her. "You shouldn't have…"

"I wanted to, so you don't get to protest."

"All right, all right…"

David caught her smirking as he arranged the new lilies in the same vase where he'd put the ones he had bought for her before. "What is it?" he asked.

Liz looked into his eyes, and her voice was completely honest when she said, "Thank you. I have to admit that I like how white lilies match the pink ones you brought me the other day. It gives this place a little color, you know."

Looking around the room, David had to admit that she was right. A hospital room wasn't exactly warm, and the flowers gave it a bit of a nice, cozy touch. He took a deep breath, feeling glad that his gift was appreciated. Then he sat on the bed, beside her and put a hand on her arm. "You did an excellent job inside that house, Liz."

"Amita knocked me down. I didn't even know that was possible, but people who are put into a lot of stress are capable of anything," she joked.

He shook his head. "Stop making excuses. We all know that you did your best. And your best is one hell of a kick ass."

This time she laughed; it was good to see her happy after what she had been through. "Have you guys been having fun?"

David smiled playfully. "Not that much without you in the field."

"Of course," she said, grinning at his joke, but then she slowly became more serious. "So… did they take the samples for the test?"

A little shiver ran down David's spine when he remembered the moment the needle had caught his blood, and the swab had taken some of his DNA. "Yeah. Now all we have to do is wait. Results will be available in about a month; three weeks if we're lucky."

Liz seemed to be looking for a deeper answer than that. David knew how obvious it was when he looked away, and he couldn't blame her for leaning over and asking, "I can't tell you that I know what it feels like, but I can assure you that I'll be here if you ever need to talk…"

He took a breath, looking into her eyes. Sharing his decisions seemed to be the right thing to do in that moment. "I've called my sister Jay. I think that talking to her will help me deal with it. Well… I hope."

"Just remember that there are people who care about you, okay? We're not only partners. We're friends for a reason," she muttered, taking his hands. "I mean, David," she said softly, "life is all about making hard decisions, but that doesn't mean that you have to be alone."

Feeling overwhelmed by Liz's support, David couldn't restrain from saying, "Is this the effect of bringing you flowers?"

She obviously caught the meaning of his joke and laughed.

"Lilies have a much deeper meaning than I thought," he added, giving her a confused, funny face.

Her answer was quick and amusing. "Oh, you'd be surprised."

Feeling strangely better than when he had first come in, David got up from the bed and offered Liz his hand. "C'mon, I'll help you," he said, helping her to leave the bed and stand up properly; she refused to leave the lilies back at the hospital. As he took her things and they walked together out of the room, shoulder by shoulder, there was something David couldn't deny.

Maybe friendship couldn't fix everything; but it certainly helped finding the way home.

**XxX**

Charlie was definitely thrilled to see his father today. He couldn't wait to see the look on his face when he got out of the hospital and into Don's apartment, where he'd live with his two sons temporarily again.

Watching Alan from the door, Charlie shook his head. His father truly hated being on a bed, not able to make any decisions by himself without a doctor's approval. Now he was up, organizing his crosswords, newspapers and books on the bed, trying to make them fit into a medium-size bag.

"Dad," Charlie said, moving into the room.

Alan turned to him at the sound of his voice. "Charlie, son! It's so good to see you," he said and gave Charlie a hug.

"You look good! You've got color." When he looked around, the mathematician noticed a table in which several little containers rested; they had traces of a viscous, strange, green substance. "And you're eating well."

"Unfortunately, too much of this so called 'jelly.' It's the only barely eatable thing I could find," Alan muttered, giving him a disgusted face. "I found my glasses, though. My memory's slowly getting better, thank God."

Smiling, Charlie started getting his father's stuff. "I'll help you carry all this, you don't worry about anything."

Suddenly, Don came in looking worried, but as soon as his eyes landed on Alan, a big smile spread over his face. "Hey, ready to go home?"

Charlie stared at his brother, thinking of how weird he'd been that day. They hadn't talked as much as usual; all they had done was making jokes to each other. In a way, it was strange and it felt like something else -something dangerously close to anger- was hidden underneath funny words.

"You mean your apartment? As long as you've cleaned up a bit…" Alan muttered, smirking when Don patted his shoulder.

It was so wonderful for Charlie to see his family interacting again like in the old days for a while, after so much pain and trouble. He couldn't stop smiling as Don helped him put Alan's things inside the bag. He and his brother glanced at their father, then at each other and smiled reciprocally.

Alan frowned. "Hey, what are yo-?"

"Good morning, Mr. Eppes," a deep voice said, and Colby was soon shaking Alan's hand. "I'm glad you're up and running, again."

"Colby… Hi," Alan muttered, looking surprised. Charlie felt his father's eyes on him as he kept packing.

"We went to get a cup of coffee last night when we got the news," he explained, smiling sweetly, sending an implicit message to his father.

Of course, Alan caught the meaning of it; he looked into Charlie's eyes, and his confused expression turned into a happy, impressed one. "Oh… I… that's great!"

"And you haven't even seen what we've got for you," Colby muttered. When he approached Don and Charlie to help them carry all the bags, his lover called him over for a moment. Their entire conversation was in whispers, since Alan wasn't supposed to know about their little surprise.

"Was he okay when you left him?" Charlie said, trying not to raise his voice.

"Yeah."

"Did you check the…" Don started.

"Yes, I did, Don, for the fiftieth time," Colby whispered.

"Well, I'm being cautious. I want to have a home when I actually go home…"

"Okay, I'm going to ask again," Alan interrupted them, speaking from the other side of the room. "What are you guys up to?"

Charlie shook his head, as he and the others started taking the bags. "Ah, it's nothing, Dad. Larry's making us all breakfast today, that's all."

Alan stared at his youngest son as if he was crazy. "Breakfast? Larry's going to cook? Am I the only one who sees the potential danger of it?"

"Chemistry has certainly helped him to find his culinary side."

"_Culinary_ side?" Alan blinked. "Okay, now I'm officially scared."

Colby and Don laughed, but Charlie added, "Don't worry, Megan's supposed to help him out…"

"… and keeping him from blowing up my apartment," Don continued.

"That's if we're lucky, of course," Colby finished with a smirk that Charlie considered more than cute.

"Colby, are you absolutely sure that you checked…"

"_Yes_, Don!" It was fun for Charlie to see Colby roll his eyes at his brother and shook his head as he got out of the room.

"Well, if you didn't, at least I asked," Don responded, taking another bag and leaving. "C'mon, Charlie. Let's take the old man home." He laughed and Charlie felt happiness again for the first time in days.

"Really? I'll show you what this 'old man' can do," Alan assured them as he confidently walked out with them.

**XxX**

Liz felt herself glowing when she reunited with the rest of the team. As if seeing David smile for a moment hadn't been great enough, Colby and Charlie seemed to have fixed things between them somehow and looked relaxed and less tired. Alan was coming home too, and she was more than happy that the Eppes family could spend some time alone. Apparently, they were going to live in Don's apartment until the house stopped being considered part of the India case.

Everyone greeted her and told her that they were glad to see her walking again, even if she needed some help; David smiled at the comment, and Liz said, "I hope you have a great time together. You truly deserve it."

"We?" Charlie asked, as Don smirked.

"Yeah, why?"

"You're not thinking of going back to your apartment right now," Colby muttered.

Don's smirk went wider. "Oh, no, miss, you're going home with us to take the first meal of the day."

It was such a sweet thing for Don to say, until Alan added, "Larry's making us breakfast."

"You're kidding," she snapped.

"I wished I was."

A bit worried, Liz looked around and noticed how all men nodded. Colby and Don seemed to be as worried as her, while David kept shaking his head, and Alan looked thoughtful. But even if Larry was in charge of breakfast today, they didn't seem to really care. There were more important things happening at the moment.

"In that case," she informed them, trying to restrain a laugh, "I wouldn't miss it for the world." _Together, we can work things out. We have to._

**XxX**

Don's kitchen wasn't exactly what Megan could call a warm place to cook; the cabinet was full of appliances that seemed to have never been used, and the room seemed to have been occupied only a few times, judging from a couple of cheese stains she could see on the counter.

But that didn't mean that the kitchen couldn't be put in good use. Now, it smelled of cookies and brownies, the homey atmosphere filling Megan's senses as she watched Larry. She'd tried not to give his clothes little attention, but once she had actually noticed it, it was impossible for her not to smile or giggle when her eyes landed on them. He was wearing his lab coat, his gloves and his favorite big glasses, and he was analyzing coffee brewing as if making a breakfast was a question of chemistry.

The worst part was that she had to recognize that it was exactly that.

"This is pure science," Larry muttered as he kept still, watching the way the coffee machine worked. "Did you know that there is an entire field on chemistry that studies how several processes of brewing, temperature and other factors lead to different combinations of acids in an every day beverage like coffee?"

"I think I saw something about it on the food channel, but honestly, I didn't think it was that complex," she answered, smiling.

"Trust me, Megan, it is. For example, your contributions, making the cookies and brownies were certainly a display of cooking wisdom. But I already have my conclusions, so perhaps we should start getting everything ready." The machine beeped; Larry carefully took the pot out of it and placed it on the cabinet next to him, on a cloth.

"Okay, let's go. They're going to love this." _We're aware of this lie and yet we're all going to go with it. Even if it's obvious that it won't make things better._ _Let's see how it turns out._

"I just hope they can see the efforts that making this kind of meal takes."

Soon, they were both in the tiny dining room, getting the table ready, bringing cups and trails with cookies and croissants to it. They stood at the end of the table, and it all seemed to be perfect, until Larry muttered, "The white sector of the table looks quite remarkable."

She smiled at his comment, remembering how passionate he had been when he'd insisted in having a part of the table with only white food. Feeling a dazzling happiness in her heart, she put an arm around his shoulders and kissed his cheek. "Yeah, I think it does look pretty good, doesn't it?"

"Let's bring the Devil."

"What?" she snapped as he walked into the kitchen. But when he came back, she understood. "Ah, you meant the coffee."

"In Europe, hundreds of years ago, coffee was considered to be the 'Satan's beverage.' Then, fortunately for the victims of addiction, that name lost its religious meaning, and now all of us can enjoy it as it really wasn't a legal drug." As he spoke, he started pouring coffee on his mug; the steam of it filled the room with the smell of reunion and conversation.

Until the apartment's door was open and Don, Charlie, Liz, David, Colby and Alan stood at the door; all of them remained still, watching the scene that was taking place at the dining room.

"Oh, dear," Alan muttered, looking shocked and worried. Megan couldn't really blame him. Looking like a mad scientist in the kitchen, plus Larry being Larry, could be easily be taken a sign of danger and chaos.

"No kitchen appliances or people were damaged during the making of this meal, I assure you," the physicist explained. Megan laughed at the moment, and that was when everyone relaxed - almost.

"See? Nothing happened. I checked everything." Colby smirked at Don, who just in case, ran to the kitchen, probably to see if it was still there.

"Alan, I'm so pleased to see you," Larry said as he awkwardly walked towards his friend and hugged him, still wearing his scientist clothes and making everyone laugh at his enthusiastic way of showing appreciation.

**XxX  
**

"Larry, this is delicious," Charlie said as he ate a chocolate chip cookie.

"Yeah, it's truly amazing. I didn't know you could do such a good breakfast," Colby agreed, as he started eating another brownie. It had an exquisite taste; he had to admit that even Larry Fleinhardt had a couple of aces up his sleeve.

"Really, this is awesome, man," David said, nodding and pouring more coffee into his mug.

Megan caressed Larry's back. "See? Everyone sees the effort."

With a wide smile on his face, he put his palms together. "That coffee was made using a fine grind for 5.21 minutes. Then it was brewed at almost 100°C, creating a good combination of extracted acids – mostly the chlorogenic, quinic and citric ones. I thought it'd be the most appropriate choice to greet my friends."

Colby frowned, feeling weird after that sudden explanation. He looked around the table, seeing that everyone was glancing at each other. He couldn't even find an answer in Charlie's confused eyes.

"Thank you, Larry," Alan said, breaking the ice, though from the tone of his voice, it was obvious that he was feeling as awkward as everyone else.

The physicist made a little bow. "You're welcome."

And then, everybody laughed, going back to their coffee. Colby was about to take another sip when Don raised his hands.

"Wait, wait. Hold on, everyone. I know that we started eating already, but I want to make a toast… It'll be quick, I promise. There's only one thing I want to say to all of you." He had a big smile on his face, as the others turned to him. "Welcome back," he said, raising his cup of coffee and looking around the table.

"Ah, that's sweet," Liz muttered, and Alan thanked his son.

Then, breakfast continued to be wonderful. It was a strange scene for Colby to judge, since the team didn't usually share so much time together; but from his view, everyone around the table had something to be thankful for. He had a long road ahead of him, a road that he'd walk with Charlie.

Trying not to be obvious, he reached down the table for his lover's hand and smiled at his coffee when Charlie, looking away, took his and entwined their fingers. Maybe he knew that a simple breakfast wouldn't fix things, but for a moment, he felt the luckiest man in the world.

**XxX**

Don had to leave his apartment so early. Breakfast wasn't over when he excused himself, saying that Carl needed him at the office. It was an obvious untruth, and he was sure that David had caught the lie judging by the dark look on his face when Don told everyone goodbye.

That wasn't the only lie. He had been holding himself together so he could keep up with Alan and Liz's recovery. He had made his best to make Charlie think that things were okay between them. He couldn't let himself ruin the few good moments they had; it didn't matter if he was still deeply hurt and mad that his brother hadn't told him about the blood samples he was going to take.

But the show would be left behind for a couple of hours. Now it was time to do what he had to do. Even if it meant to get dirty.

Walking down the corridors of the center, he arranged his sleeves a couple of times. The only time he looked up from the floor was when he talked to the person in charge, a blonde woman who treated him nicely and put some limits to the conversation he was going to have with the patient. He couldn't touch the person inside the room; it could cause her condition to get worse than it already was.

So when he opened the door of the room, he waited a second to come in, and when he finally did it, he told himself over and over again that he was doing this for Charlie.

"Don," Amita said as soon as her eyes landed on him.

He didn't greet her; he walked towards the bed and stood in front of it. "Don't you feel guilty?"

The question didn't seem to surprise her. "Of course I do… but there's nothing I can do to fix things. What's done is done," she said, putting her hand on her tummy and looking a bit scared.

"No."

She stared at him.

"_No_," Don repeated.

"What…?"

He walked towards her, closer to her. "You're going to help me to fix everything." She remained still, no words coming out her mouth. Trying to calm down, he ran his hands over his face. "What you're going to do won't hurt you. Your child will be safe, of course." He took a deep breath. "I assume you don't have any access to cell phone."

Amita shook her head and moved away from him.

"Okay..." He wanted to be clear; he knew that Amita had been through a lot, and that it had made her do a lot of horrible things, but he couldn't forgive or pardon her actions. It was funny that at the same time he knew that he'd never hurt her. He got even closer to her, took out the extra cell phone he had with him and handed it to her. He spoke from the heart. "I could say that this is not personal, but it is. I liked you, Amita, I really did. But it's my family that you're hurting, and I'm not going to let you do that." He saw the way her chest went up and down and heard her breathing accelerating. He went towards the door, but before crossing the threshold, he turned around one more time. "When the right time comes, if you still care for Charlie a tiny bit, you'll help me. You will answer that phone and you'll do it… for _him_."

With that, he left. He didn't turn to see how Amita reacted. As he walked through the corridors again, he couldn't help but comparing the place with the hospital he had been at a few hours ago. Picking up his father had been a good experience; but in a way, it reminded him of his mother's death and the days after the kidnapping Amita had planned and executed.

As he walked out of the building, he came to the conclusion that hospitals weren't nice in certain contexts. But he also knew that in those same situations, psychiatric centers were definitely worse.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

_**A/N: FEEDBACK IS LOVE.**_


	15. Crash

**Title:** "Crash"

**Series: **_In the Arms of the Wicked_, Part 15/?

**Characters:**Ian/OMC, other OCs.

**Rating:** M.

**Spoilers:** None.

**Warnings:** None.

**Summary:** Ian and archeology try to get along, but it's not easy with such strange people around.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything except my OCs.

**Beta:** Thanks to my amazing beta.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

**In the Arms of the Wicked**

**Part 15****: "Crash"**

Sure, Ian was used to travelling around the country in jets, but this wasn't definitely the type he was expecting. As he got into the plane, he slowly became aware again that Dr. Farrow's life was different than the one he showed to the cameras.

Inside, everything was very simple and well organized, though the piles of books that dominated the interior wasn't exactly tidy. Ian looked around in confusion, his gaze landing on the works of people whose names he remembered perfectly, his brain feeling at home amongst the smell of ancient paper and ink.

"Are you all right, Agent Edgerton?" Farrow's voice startled him, bringing him down from his sudden cloud. In a way, Ian was glad that his little happy moment was over; if he kept on remembering, he'd probably get to the ugly part of his memories.

He took a breath and stated, "Yeah, of course I am." He hated having the blue eyes of that little know-it-all on him, especially when they seemed to be about to catch a lie or a subtle distortion in the message. "Do you always you travel around with so many books?"

"Time is not something we can waste," Farrow responded, finally looking in another direction. He started walking and Ian followed him, just in case. The plane was the unknown for him; everything still had the potential for turning into a nightmare of gold and leather and other things the sniper despised with all his heart.

However, the seats were common; nothing fancy, nothing weird, nothing luxurious. "Please," Farrow said as he pointed at one of them. Then he took several books and sat down, Sergio and the bodyguards followed suit. The awkwardness of the situation made Ian go with the flow; he had a job to do, and he was more than capable of standing being around such weird people in order to get to the bottom of the robberies.

He lifted an eyebrow at the archeologist, but he still sat down, far away from him, watching him closely. Next to Farrow, Sergio was organizing the books his boss was revising and discarding.

"I'm not going to try to convince you that I'm innocent. I realize that it'd be useless, and frankly, I can live with you thinking I'm a thief," Farrow explained, as he kept looking for a certain title. "I don't need to prove anything to you. Someday, the truth will shock you and you'll see that I am what I say that I am."

Ian cocked his head, smelling another lie. "Sure." That made Farrow stop looking at his books and close them immediately, just like he'd done when they were at his house outside L.A.

"Oh, here we go again..."

"I don't think so. I'm your bodyguard and as far as I remember, you let your employees speak freely to you. Isn't that true, Sergio?"

The only thing Sergio did was glance at Ian, then at his boss and go back to the books. He obviously didn't want to get involved in whatever weird discussion was taking place between the other men.

"So what now? You're going to do research until we land?" Ian continued, catching Farrow's annoyed smile.

"Yes. Is that breaking the law?"

Ian smirked.

The archeologist shook his head. "If it's illegal in some way, you're more than welcome to arrest me."

"Oh, I would. For my personal pleasure."

There was a moment in which no one spoke. Ian could feel all eyes on them, he even knew Sergio was paying attention. He loved the tension and the impression he left on the archeologist; he also wondered how he'd respond.

"Hmm," Dr. Farrow said, staring at Ian and looking pleased. He licked his lips. "Interesting." With a crooked smile, he finally found his book and he proceeded to focus on it. Watching him read, the sniper started to feel dizzy, and soon, when the jet took off and he had to fasten his seatbelt, he felt tired and sleepy.

A few minutes later, the turbulence was over. Fortunately, no one seemed to be up for conversation and Ian closed his eyes. The last thing he remembered seeing was Farrow's hands hovering over the pages of the book again.

_It was a little hard to walk, and Ian hated it. Why couldn't he do it faster? Why the hell hadn't he been more careful? If he'd been behaving himself, his knee wouldn't hurt like hell, and reaching her study wouldn't be that hard. _

_But finally, he was at her door. Ian watched the wonderful woman who had both fixed his life and turned it upside down at the same time._

"_Marah, what are these books for?" Ian asked, as delicate hands roamed over the pages of old, dusty books she had on one of her desks. "Chardonnay? Cabernet Sauvignon?"_

"_Ian," she said, approaching him and kissing his forehead. "Yeah, these are all about wine."_

"_What about this one? Guns?" Confused, Ian looked around and saw a rifle on her other desk. "Why are you…?"_

"_Safety, that's all." She looked sad when she spoke, but as always, she did it from the heart. "It's the truth."_

_Looking into her eyes, Ian tried very hard to believe her. "I'll protect you," he said anyway._

_Smiling sweetly, she opened her arms for him. "Oh, come here." She held him tight as he felt safe and warm; being so close to Marah allowed him to smell her soft perfume and feel her dark curls brushing his cheeks. "I love you so much."_

_  
He didn't answer. There was something in her voice, something that indicated that she was about to cry. _

"_Your knee… It hurts, doesn't it?" she asked, her perfect tenderness mixed into a voice that sounded like it was going to break at any minute. _

"_It's nothing."  
_

"_It's never nothing. We'll take care of it, okay?" Clearly worried about him, Marah hugged him again. Ian enjoyed the nearness of her body as if it was for the last time._

_And then a shot took him by surprise._

_  
_"What the…?" Ian said, his eyes opening in shock, his body getting up as a reflex to a horrible nightmare. When he realized where he was, he looked through the window and saw that the jet was coming in to land. It was early in the morning, and he could see the dry ground of Arizona. The airport was certainly close.

Fortunately, no one asked him if he was okay; Farrow had fallen asleep on his seat with his book open on his legs, and not even while dreaming did he look inoffensive. By his side, Sergio snored and was talking in his sleep. The bodyguards were flipping through the pages of magazines, some of which looked quite dirty to Ian; but then again, if they were allowed to see them, it was Farrow's decision.

A voice was heard through the speakerphone of the jet. "Dr. Farrow and crew, may I have your attention, please? We are expected to land within the next ten minutes, so please, take your precautions. Thank you very much."

"God, I hate it when she's so formal. I've told her thousands of times to call me by my first name," Farrow muttered as he rubbed his eyes. He then yawned, and he looked at the book that was on his legs. "And… I fell asleep again."

"Do you want me to give you any of your pills, Chris?" Sergio asked him, but Farrow shook his head. "Okay."

As he fastened his seatbelt and put the book away, Dr. Farrow turned to Ian, who was simply observing the situation. "Did you get a good sleep?"

"Yeah. I did."

"I'm glad." The archeologist bit his lip. "The jet is landing…"

Of course, Ian grabbed the edges of the seat. When the jet finally came to a halt and the flight attendant said that it was okay to get up, he wasn't surprised to see that they were in a private airport again.

When the right moment came, he took the bag he had brought on board with him and stood at the door of the jet. The place was so arid and lonely, and an SUV was waiting for everyone to get in with their books and luggage. Tired, but ready to start the journey, Ian made his first steps into the beautiful morning ahead.

**XxX**

Traveling in an SUV with Farrow and with everyone else wasn't exactly the most pleasurable ride in the world, but Ian was able to keep his mind busy concentrating on something different. The nightmare he'd had was still fresh in his head, and he hated memories. He really did. Especially the ones about Marah. Although it was all about her, really.

The ride was long, but they finally reached Farrow's house. As the vehicle got closer to it, Ian started to see again how strange everything around him was. He caressed his chin as he analyzed the solid, yet old building that was waiting for him. It was simple, rustic, and it really seemed to be impossible for anyone to live there. Farrow definitely had his ways to erase himself from the map.

When the SUV stopped, the bodyguards started offloading the luggage and books. In the meantime, Sergio took out of his pocket the keys of the house and went towards the door. Once it was open, Farrow and everyone else got in.

Farrow ran his fingers through his thick hair. "Geez, it's hot in here…"

"Yeah… I'll let some air in," Sergio said, as he walked towards one of the big windows and started to open it. Some rays of light of the day bathed the first room, and that's when Ian realized that it wasn't dirty or messy. It was still rustic, but it was also strangely stimulating. There were only futons in the first room, and a little table with a lot of papers and a few cups of hot coffee on it.

"How…?" he tried to ask, but suddenly a woman, who'd apparently been in the next room, came to welcome them. She had to be in her fifties; she had tanned skin, short, curly, red hair and a great, friendly smile.

"Hey, Lillian," Farrow said, pulling her into a tight hug that made Ian uncomfortable. Watching the archeologist be affectionate to people in such situations was something that he wasn't expecting. "This is Lillian Fisher, one of the best in the field and my personal Egyptian goddess."

"Oh, stop it," she told him, with a perfect British accent, shaking her head.

"Nice to meet you. I'm…" He hated saying it, but he had to. "My name's Ian Edgerton, I'm…" He took a deep breath, because he was going to pronounce the name. "I'm Chris' new bodyguard."

"And one hell of a fellow." The wide, mocking smile in Farrow's face made Ian snort in frustration.

Ian was about to leave to a more lonely place, but he caught the intimate smile Lillian was giving Farrow, as if he had sent her a secret message. "Oh, finally… After all this time…"

"Oh, no, I never said that… It was only a joke."

"Well, don't play with me like that, you know I hate it. I care about you," she said as she hugged him again and he reciprocated.

"All right, all right…" he muttered, and then he turned to Ian again. "You're going to meet some of the amazing people I work with. Richard should arrive tonight. I'm sending him the jet."

Looking excited, Lillian went towards the table, grabbed the papers that lay on it and showed them to Farrow. When Ian got closer to them, he saw it was a map of the house. "I've already surveyed the area, basing it on the data we already had from our previous work. It all looks fine, except for a spot here, twenty meters away from the garage."

Thoughtful, Farrow's eyes travelled over the map. "What's the substantive evidence?"

"Distortion of superficial sediment structure indicates possible human activity. Plus, I've run the magnetometer survey and checked magnetic susceptibility and resistivity. This thing should be about seven meters down."

"Hmmm. All right. Could you show me?"

"Sure, follow me." Lillian guided the way out of the house and towards the spot that was being analyzed. "Okay, this is it."

Ian took a look at the place and immediately walked towards the spot, kneeling in front of it. He touched the dry ground, barely running his fingers over it. It was slightly dusty and the cracks in it weren't as sharp and defined as they should.

"Sediments have been removed from their original location by a few inches."

When Ian realized that the one talking was Farrow, he turned to the side and saw that the archeologist was beside him, kneeling and examining the ground, as well. For a moment, the sniper believed in his expertise; now Farrow didn't look like the unbearable rebel, but like a young man fascinated by the mysteries of the world.

"In my opinion, yeah, this is the spot. Do you agree, Ian?" Farrow asked, looking back at him.

Ian raised his eyebrows and turned to the ground, running his fingers over it again. Then he got up. "Yeah, I do."

Farrow got up and put a hand on Lillian's shoulder, smiling at her. "Amazing job, as usual. No wonder you're my best friend."

"Very funny," she answered, as the three of them looked at the spot. "So, what do you want to do, Chris?"

Again, hearing people call Farrow by his name was extremely awkward for Ian. It indicated intimacy, respect and friendship, and it was hard for him to see the archeologist in such context.

"We have breakfast, because it's going to be a long day and we don't know how much time this is gong to take. But we start today. In an hour."

When Ian turned to Farrow, he found a wonderful, excited smile spreading over Lillian's face. "Awesome."

**XxX**

Even in such a simple environment, Ian expected a wonderful, expensive breakfast to be bought. He discovered that he was wrong when he took a look at the table in the dining room. As Sergio had stayed inside the house, he had taken care of the last details, and now he was pouring coffee on the cups of Farrow's bodyguards, who where seated at the table already.

"Hey, guys," the archeologist said when he, Lillian and Ian went in. The bodyguards greeted him and the others as they ate. "C'mon, Ian, take a seat. Enjoy the first meal of the day with us."

Looking around the rectangular old table, Ian felt like he had done in his old days in Afghanistan, when he'd sometimes wished he could share a meal with other human beings in a calm place. He decided to sit down and sip his coffee. Everyone around him was laughing and talking about excavations, grids and jokes he didn't even want to try to understand. All archeologists and the people who worked with them seemed to be a bit crazy, not just Farrow.

"Oh, and of course, then I met Ian," the blue-eyed man suddenly said, taking Ian out of his train of thought. He was expecting a sarcastic story about how they had supposedly met, but he became speechless when he heard Farrow saying, "He's become my friend so fast… I trust him completely."

All Ian did after those words was sip his coffee as the people around the table smiled at him. Lillian seemed to be especially happy; it seemed that the news had brought some home to her heart. But the conversation continued, getting to issues the sniper wasn't expecting.

"And then he stuck that stick in that hole and…" she said a while after, as she explained an excavation she had been part of in Egypt.

"Okay, now, don't say it like that, it sounds so pornographic," one of the bodyguards said, with a disgusted look on his face. "It's too early in the morning for that… I'm trying to eat my breakfast!"

Farrow laughed, finished his coffee and put his cup down. He looked at his watch. "Oh, no. I think it's a great time for archeological porno tales… Shall we start with this fascinating adventure?"

The bodyguards ate in silence, not finding that funny. Lillian's forehead creased in worry. "I don't know if I'd call it fascinating, Chris."

That was when Farrow leaned on the table and joined his hands, in a position that reminded Ian of Professor Fleinhardt. The sniper remembered telling Reeves that he didn't understand the friendship between the two men; he hadn't seen the archeologist working yet, but just by feeling the passion everybody seemed to have for their job, his doubts had been cleared up.

"I know that," Farrow seriously said. "I'm as worried as you. I don't know what the hell is down this earth, but I'm going to take it out and I'm going to find whoever stole those antiques. I swear it for Loui…" He interrupted himself, gaining a lot of worried looks from his friends. "All I'm saying is that I can't stand people who mess up what they shouldn't."

With that, he got up and left. Sergio and Lillian followed him immediately. Ian wasn't in the mood to deal with other people's personal problems. He had enough with the nightmare he'd had about Marah. But he also knew that the name Farrow had pronounced, Louis, was the man who had been killed in that same house two and half years ago.

"I don't blame him for reacting like that," one of the body guards told the others, who were sipping their coffee in silence. Ian got up to go find Farrow but surprisingly, the archeologist came back.

He stood at the door, looking at the floor. With his two friends beside him, he ran his palms over his face and then put his hands on his hips. He raised his gaze and spoke. "If you're ready, we could start…"

"Sure, sure," the bodyguards said in hushed whispers, as they got up and started cleaning up the table. Ian was surprised to see how they were reacting; all of them seemed to have something to do with the man named Louis Terrence.

But it was time for the archeologists to do their job. Decided to find out more about the dynamics between the people he had met, Ian offered himself to help them, and no one turned him down. But it didn't seem to be because they were thankful; it really looked like they had more important matters to worry about than having an inexperienced person dealing with the object that was hidden underground.

**XxX**

"Here," Lillian said, handing Ian a digital camera. She turned to the others, who were hovering around the mysterious spot. "And now I pronounce you the new official Photo-Man."

"Hey, Photo-Man," everyone waved at Ian, smiling like it was funny or something.

He just shook his head and glanced at his camera. "Fine. Just let me know when you need me to take a picture."

"Oh, that's not all you're going to do, silly." The way she talked to him like she'd known him forever always made him feel awkward and out of place. But at the same time, she really seemed to be warm and nice, and free of all bad intentions. She handed him two buckets and a shovel. Ian just took it all, as everyone stared at him. "We work together as one. We all get to do everything. If you're going to participate in this, you get the entire ride," Lillian added, arranging her hair and putting on a hat. Ian stared back at the rest of the team, while she walked towards the others. "C'mon, sweetheart, the topsoil is not going to strip itself!"

Confused but determined to go through this in order to do this job, Ian surrendered to the unknown. This time, not even Farrow's little smile could make him back out.

**XxX**

Archeologists were definitely something out of this world. Ian had to admit that they were really easy to talk to, and that after working together for so long, they'd really built a bond between them and others who didn't share their profession.

Among his partners and friends, Dr. Christopher Farrow turned into a whole different person. He was even more energetic than usual, but the tone of his voice was excited and focused. He really didn't seem to be into sarcasm when he was doing his work.

As Lillian had already taken care of the site grid before everyone arrived to the house, they should start digging, but someone was missing. "Where is she?" Farrow said, putting on his gloves.

Sergio shrugged. "I have no idea. She was here a minute ago."

In that precise moment, she came out of the house holding an MP3 and two little speakers. She put them on a little chair they had brought outside and turned them on. Rock music started to fill the air. The quality of the sound was bad, but no one seemed to care.

"Highway to Hell?" one of the bodyguards asked her.

"AC/DC, yes," she proudly answered, and she went to get her shovel.

Feeling like he was at the circus, Ian looked at Farrow, who just shook his head at Lillian and waited for her to join the group. "All right, people! Let's dig!" he yelled, as he pushed his shovel into the ground.

**XxX**

By eleven pm, the topsoil and a meter of dirt had already been removed from the ground, put into buckets and taken to a location near the deep hole inside the site grid. Now, it was time to be more careful and do the work manually. Everyone was in a good mood because of all the progress they had made.

"You're going to drive me nuts with your rock music, Lillian," Sergio said as he kept taking down notes and walking around the place.

She took her gloved hands out of the dirt and took a shovel. "It's not my fault that you're more into _salsa_, you know."

Farrow, who was digging beside her, laughed at her little comment. Ian watched them from the other side of the hole; he had put on his own gloves and now he was helping them out.

"Photo-Man, could you take a picture of that?" Lillian asked him, seriously gesturing to come closer.

Ian took a deep breath and left his shovel. "Okay." He walked towards her and knelt in front of her and Farrow, trying to take a picture of a part of the ground that had a strange shape. He had dirt on his clothes and his skin; he could swear he had it in his hair, too.

"What do you see in that area that makes you so curious?" Farrow's voice asked behind him.

"Oh, nothing in particular. I just wanted to enjoy the view a bit."

Stunned, Ian caught the possible meaning of that phrase, but he didn't look back at the red-headed woman. She kept listening, though.

"I have to admit it, Chris. The Photo-man has a _very nice_ butt," she continued, making Ian uncomfortable. "I bet he'd look like a Calendar Boy if we'd stripped him out of those muddy clothes. It'd be quite a show. Maybe we should change his name to Hot-Stuff." Farrow laughed instantly.

"All right…" Ian muttered, getting up.

"How I'd love to hear, 'Hot-Stuff at your service, ma'am.'"

"_God_, woman, behave yourself!" Sergio said, laughing, as he kept walking around with his little note book. The bodyguards shook their heads; apparently, Lillian always made those kinds of jokes.

"What?" she said. "I spend most of my time in a hole in the ground, so I think I deserve to have a little fun. Besides, one's never too old to give compliments." She turned to Ian, who was watching her. "Just remember, darling, that archeologists are not afraid to go down and dirty. Isn't that right, Chris?"

"Yes, we _love_ it," he joked, too.

Ian looked at everyone around him and didn't know how to react. "Oh, dear," he whispered to himself, as he went back to his side of the hole.

**XxX**

There were only a few times in Ian's life when he had felt so tired and eager for a shower. The sound and the feeling of water splashing his body and sliding down it was refreshing and calming. He hoped that a good night sleep would get him ready for the next day. He wasn't used to listening to so many pranks, and they had left him exhausted. It was like his world had crashed into Farrow's in a very short space of time.

Sergio had arranged a room in the house for him, but of course, Ian wouldn't stay there. If he was going to keep an eye on Farrow, he was going to do it well - even if that meant spending every night in his bedroom. So he grabbed a pillow and a blanket and made his way towards his destination. He remembered seeing a chair in a corner, and he was planning to crash there.

Nevertheless, a little surprise was waiting for him. A warm, nice, comfortable bed that had been brought in and erected inside Farrow's bedroom, to enable the sniper to sleep there.

"What is this?" he asked, in a raspy tone of voice, standing at the door. Sergio was making the bed while Farrow walked around the room with a book in his hands.

"Chris insisted that you should have an extra bed here," the butler responded, and when he was done with his job, he left. Farrow and Ian were now alone.

Of course, Ian was already jumping to conclusions. He didn't like it, but he took the bed. He had to spend the night there anyway.

"I thought you'd sleep here, so I went ahead and got it all ready for you," Farrow muttered, walking towards his own bed. He didn't turn to Ian as he walked in and threw his pillow and blanket to the floor

The sniper shook his head. "You can't buy me with a warm bed."

Farrow put his book on his rustic nightstand. "I'm not trying to." He glanced at the Ian and barely smiled.

With that, conversation was over. Still feeling tricked, Ian sat on his bed. He had just let his head rest on the pillow when he heard people yelling outside of the room. In seconds, Sergio was storming into the room. He looked pale and worried and out of control.

"Chris, just… You have to see this… It's all over the news…"

**XxX**

"How did that happen?" Farrow asked over and over again. "How? I mean, I have another plane, but we were there a few hours ago." He wasn't walking around anymore. Now he was seated on a chair, looking at the screen of Lillian's laptop. The images showed his jet on fire, falling apart, in the airport it had landed at early that day.

"I was watching the news when I came across it," the woman explained, and she clicked on a link. "Look, this was the exact moment it happened. The jet lost its balance and just before landing, it skidded off the runway and crashed into the airport building." The images accompanied her words.

"Wasn't one of your friends, another archeologist, supposed to be in that plane?" Ian asked, remembering some of Farrow's words.

Lillian's lips trembled as she spoke. "Yeah, but Richard's okay. He made it, I don't know how, since there were five people killed. He just rang me to tell us not to worry about him. He's at a hospital near Phoenix, though. I want to see him. He seemed to be in pain anyway."

"Then you should go."

"Yeah, you go and check on him," Farrow said, folding his arms and staring at the screen. "I'll stay here. We need to figure out whatever message that cult is sending me, and we need to do it soon."

As one of the bodyguards offered himself to drive Lillian to the hospital to see her friend Richard, Ian couldn't stop watching Farrow's dark expression. It was as if seeing the images of fire men trying to suffocate the flames and save people from dying was slowly giving the archeologists the answers he'd come here to find.

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_**A/N: FEEDBACK IS LOVE.**_


	16. Layers of a Lie

**Title:** "Layers of a Lie"

**Series: **_In the Arms of the Wicked_, Part 16/?

**Characters:**Megan/Larry, David, OFC, Liz, Charlie/Colby, Don, Alan.

**Rating:** M.

**Spoilers:** None.

**Warnings:** Mention of rape.

**Summary:**Megan tries to keep her secrets. David can't hide his from his family.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything except my OCs.

**Beta:** Thanks to my amazing beta.

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**In the Arms of the Wicked**

**Part 16****: "Layers of a Lie"**

"Are you happy, Larry?"

"If you mean that I have current access to a transcendent feeling of self-satisfaction and achievement on the breakfast I made, yes."

Megan kept running a dry cloth over the edges of a mug as Larry carefully did the dishes. Alan had gone back to the table after they had insisted on taking care of things in the kitchen. "What about the other meaning? Just sheer… _joy_?"

She heard her lover sigh and couldn't help letting herself smile. No matter how hard it was.

"Yeah… Most definitely."

"Hmm… I'm glad one of us is getting something positive from all this." _Because there's no way I could_… The silence that followed made her mind stop from happy, automatic mode. Her fingers trembled as she kept drying the dishes, her mind got cloudy and unfocused…

Larry touched her hand.

She stopped.

"Megan."

She didn't move. Her speeding breaths were difficult to handle, as well as the hard pounding of her heart. But slowly, the warmth of skin on skin soothed her nerves. The soft caress of Larry's hand on hers created a little light in between the flashes of ideas that darkened her thoughts.

"I'm…"

"You're not alone."

"I know that."

"Are you sure?"

Such question made by a loved one triggered something inside Megan's heart – something she consciously avoided running into. Out of breath, she turned to Larry and stared at his worried eyes.

_Self-preservation mechanisms are healthy. As least, mine is. _

"Do you want to talk about it?"

_Please, don't make me go to that corner of my head. Let me control it and bury it where it belongs._ "Not at the moment, but maybe someday," she muttered, wishing that they never came. "You're very sweet, Larry."

From the way he was looking back at her, Megan was sure that he hadn't missed the existence of a deeper issue hidden behind her words. She tried to ignore it and focus on something only a little bit less painful, a truth that overlapped with her personal demons. As the heard the laughs of people in the dining room, keeping that one to herself turned out to be impossible.

"This is a complete fake," she suddenly stated. Larry remained in silence. "No one around that table is okay. None of them. We all keep telling each other that we're fine, we keep showing off smiles and nice gestures, but we know that they'll never be enough to make things go back to what they were."

"That takes time…"

"Yeah, but this is… This is… I thought I was fine with it, but I'm not. I hate it when people pretend things are okay and they're obviously not." _There, I said it. Damn it. _After speaking her mind, Megan didn't want to continue with the conversation; she knew that she was doing that same thing herself, hiding behind a silly smile and hoping it'd make everything better. Silently, she went back to drying the dishes, wishing Larry would drop the subject.

The moment passed quickly, not giving her enough time to recover. When Alan came in and asked them how things were going, she lost control over herself and the mug she was taking care of slipped from her hands. It crashed on the floor, mirroring the way Megan's mind tried to turn memories into pieces.

"Oh, my God, Megan," Alan asked, as he started to collect the bigger pieces of the broken mug. He threw them to the trash. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah… I'm just… kind of clumsy, that's all. I'm _so_ sorry," she excused herself, as she ran her fingers over her eyes, trying to hide the signs of her sudden nervous breakdown and to make the urge to cry go away. Alan's hand was soon on her shoulder.

"Don't worry about it. But are you sure you're fine? Why don't you sit down?"

She used all her energy to fake a smile when she uncovered her face. "You know what? Maybe I should… All these images of us together again and smiling were a bit too overwhelming, I guess."

"Here…" Alan pointed a little chair in the corner of the kitchen for her to sit down. Then he went to grab a broom and a dustpan.

"I can do it, Alan, if you don't mind," Larry suddenly said, pointing at the destroyed mug that lay on the floor.

Alan looked at him and then at Megan. From her little corner, she sensed that he had understood that they wanted to be alone. "Sure," he said, but when he was gone, Megan felt again the pressure of revealing the secrets she fervently tried to keep.

She remained on that chair, observing the way her hands still trembled, expecting Larry to keep asking questions. Curiosity was one of his most valuable characteristics. But he just did what he'd told Alan. He picked up the pieces of the mug and threw them to the garbage. Only then, he spoke again. He stood holding the broom and the dustpan in the middle of the kitchen and asked, "Do you have any idea why I offered to make this breakfast?"

Afraid and a little bit embarrassed, Megan shook her head.

"Because I've learned that sometimes the illusion of a happy ending can help initiate the actual healing."

His words were full of truth, and they always came up when Megan less expected it. What he had said was one of the few things she really believed in; it was one of the reasons why she had left home at the age of sixteen. It felt so good that he was the one to make her remember it.

"Is that the real reason why you've been different during the last few days?" Larry continued.

She looked up for a moment and then returned to staring at her trembling hands. As much as she thanked her lover for making her feel better, she bit her lip and preferred not to say another word. She didn't need Larry to see the scars the past had left on her soul; and most of all, she didn't want him to become the person to carry the weight for her.

**XxX**

The table still smelled of coffee and cookies when Alan came back and sat at the head of it. "So, what did I miss?"

"Liz was telling us all about the lilies David bought for her," Colby said with a teasing tone of voice.

"Yeah… white and pink… _Very_ nice," Charlie continued, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

_It is funny how we can cope like this, with bonding and jokes, and yet know that everything is a giant mess._ Uncomfortable, David rested his head on his palm. He had to go with the flow. "Guys, it's impossible with you."

"She was the one who started it."

Looking amused, Liz ran her hands over her dark hair. It seemed that she was talking to herself when she said, "The lilies were pretty. What can I do but praise them? They were the only presents I got from…"

She didn't continue the sentence. David saw the way her face turned into sadness and regret of what she had just said. In the meantime, Charlie and Colby fixed their eyes on the table. It looked like they were apologizing for not visiting her frequently enough at the hospital. She had only been there for a few days, but…

"Don't worry about it, guys. You were busy." Liz's eyes were sweet but David could see disappointment in the way she rested both her hands on the table, beside her mug.

"Still, that's not an excuse," Colby stated. "I'm so sorry, Liz… You, too, Alan."

David remembered that Colby hadn't visited Alan either. Considering that Charlie was his lover, it could be worse than Liz's case, but then again, the agent and the mathematician weren't exactly a happy couple those days.

"It's okay, we weren't there for long," Alan said, patting Colby's shoulder.

"I went to your room a couple of times, but you were asleep," David muttered, with a shy smile on his face. He felt Alan's hand on his shoulder, too. Then he tried to get up, but he accidentally dropped one of the spoons that lay beside his mug. He leaned to catch it, and the sight of something happening under the table caught his attention – Charlie and Colby were holding hands.

_They're lucky. If I could just… If she hadn't… I have to meet Jay._

"Guys, sharing this moment with you has been amazing… After all that's happened, it's good to know that we have each other…" Words rolled out of his tongue as he saw Charlie and Colby's faces, knowing that they were holding hands under the table.

"That sounds like you're leaving," Alan pointed out.

"I am…"

"No…" Charlie whispered.

With a disappointed look, Colby raised his hand. "C'mon, man, stay for a little while longer… Enjoy some more of Larry's show as our cook and host…"

Some of the images of Larry in his mad scientist costume had David laughing. "That's a very good offer, but if I'm not wrong, you should go back to work, just like me."

Charlie's face lit up. "That's true! For a moment, I had forgotten about it!" He ran one hand over his chin. "Do you think Don and Carl had a positive interview?"

_That's certainly not the reason why he left. I should check on what he went to do._ "I don't know, we'll have to wait and see what he tells us."

In that moment, the apartment's door was open. "Hey, guys," Don said, looking tired and playing with his car keys.

"Donnie, you're back," Alan greeted him.

Obviously pleased to see his brother, Charlie got up from the table and went towards him. "We were just talking about you. How was your interview with Carl?" He guided Don back to the table again.

"It was okay… Nothing big, really. He wanted to talk about Farrow, that's all."

"David told me that Ian and that guy are in Arizona right now. Is that true?" Liz asked, folding her arms. When David nodded, she continued, "What does that face of yours mean? Should I be worried?"

"Probably," Don said.

"More like a lot." Colby's eyes sparkled as he spoke. "I wasn't there during the interview the two of them had, but I've been told it was scary enough to have the entire floor talking about it."

Liz seemed to be very impressed. "Really? Wow."

"So… yeah, I'm going to go, now," David suddenly said, smiling.

"Could you give me a ride home? I need to take my stuff, and…"

"Yeah, don't worry about it. Let's go," he responded.

"Thanks."

"We should go to the FBI, too. There's a lot of work there waiting for us," Don explained. "Hey, Larry!" He grabbed a couple of the mugs that were still on the table, got up and walked towards the kitchen. "I'm going to help him out a bit, just in case… I'll see you at work, guys!"

"All right, Don!" Charlie called.

Five minutes later, David had already taken Liz's things and was helping her get in the car. When he sat beside her, in the driver's seat, he followed her eyes and found Charlie and Colby talking at the building's door.

"What do you think they're telling each other?" she asked, her eyes fixed on them as the edges of her lips slowly curved upwards.

David tried to figure it out. "Reading lips isn't my thing, but… maybe they're arranging a date?"

"That'd be good for them. You know, find time to talk more and get things going." She turned to him, still smiling, and he turned on the engine. It was time to take her home.

Liz's apartment was nice and very well lighted. Organized, comfy, minimalistic but warm. It was like fresh air, nothing like Amita's apartment. There would be no horrible surprises here.

He helped her carry her stuff and put it in place. He had to fight with her a little bit to make her get in the bed and rest for a while. David even took the liberty of making some tea and turning the TV on for her.

"You're the greatest," she told him, in between sips as she lay in between the sheets.

From the door, he watched her flip the channels. "Will you call me if you need anything?"

"Of course. Especially if I need more lilies."

"I put them on fresh water again, they're in the kitchen. Are you ever going to stop?"

"It's not like I have joke material on you around every day."

"Ha… Well, enjoy it until it gets old." His voice had sounded so pleased that for a moment, he got scared. "I'll see you later."

She waved the remote control at him. "See you, Sinclair!"

Leaving that apartment felt like something natural and _good_. Liz was a really good friend. She deserved to have someone by her side the entire day, and David would gladly be the one to accompany her, but he also had to take care of other things, like keeping his job and meeting his sister.

Calmer than a few days ago, he worked with Don most of the day. He couldn't find a way to figure out what Don had been doing that morning during breakfast. He also promised himself that he'd keep an eye on him, just to be sure.

Megan acted strange the entire afternoon. She looked pale, tired, and kept drinking more and more coffee, even when Don advised her against it. Her attitude was one David could easily recognize – the attitude of someone who was holding herself together and trying not to bother others. Neither he nor Don dared to ask what was going on with Megan, though. With Carl following their footsteps, it wasn't the best option.

At six o'clock, just before leaving, he watched Charlie and Colby talk to each other in the war room in a sweet way again. _They're probably coming up with the details of their date._ He could also see Larry in the break room; he looked worried about something; David assumed the reason was Megan.

"I'm going home, Don. Call me if anything happens," he told his boss before leaving the building.

On the way home, David realized that there was so much he had to do to welcome his sister properly. He made a stop and bought lemons, meat, vegetables and even a couple of plants to bring life to his apartment. He got the feeling that an empty, sad place would make questions pop into Jay's head, and that was the last thing he wanted. It wasn't the right time to talk about the rape yet; he couldn't even bear his friends knowing about it.

In his apartment, he took care of dinner and tidied up every room the best he could. Finding the place where he'd kept some of his most interesting clothes triggered a memory. _The building-man stripper clothes… Maybe after all this mess is over, Charlie and Colby will make a good use of them. _

Memories didn't stop there. One thing led to another, and all of a sudden he was hearing his sister's laughs, her voice, as they played games when he was a little boy. Maybe she was ten years older than him, but that had never stopped her from being there for David. Drowning in their old days was a good way to wait for her. By the time she rang the bell, everything was pretty much ready for her.

"Jay, how are you?" he greeted her after he opened the door. They gave each other a warm hug. They hadn't seen each other in a long time.

"I'm great, actually."

He took in the beauty of her curvy body and the strong spirit he knew she had. "I can tell. You look stunning. Isn't Marlon worried about all those men staring at you when you walk down the streets of L.A.?"

"Oh, you're too sweet. But my husband knows I'm his and his only. I know how to keep my man happy." She gave David her widest smile, and he couldn't help but seeing flashes of her wedding.

"Come in, please." It was fine. Everything was fine. He'd tell her about his doubts without going into details or reasons. She'd help him. That would be it. Jay didn't need to know the truth.

"You know, this place looks a lot better than when I first visited it," she said, looking around the apartment and sitting on the counter. "I'll take my lemonade, thanks."

"All right," Doing his best to hide his melancholic mood, David patted her shoulder and went to get the lemonade he had made for her.

"So, everything's cool? Your FBI work, your personal life? Any lady I should worry about for corrupting my little brother?" Smirking, she sat at the counter.

"Corrupting your little brother, the FBI agent."

"Hey, women love men in uniforms and suits. When I was younger, I would have said 'Yuck' if any of my friends considered you cute, but now I can see your charming side. Plus, your smile's a killer."

He smiled, offering her a glass of lemonade. "It runs in the family," he told her, making her giggle. "I bet Michael's got it, too."

"He's already breaking hearts at school, can you believe it? The other day he missed a couple of his classes and one girl came to 'bring him his homework.' Yeah, right. Came to drool over my handsome kid."

"You're so overprotective."

"Thank God he's only thirteen. It feels like yesterday when I was at the hospital and I all I could think about was pushing." She took a deep breath. "I don't even want to imagine what it'd be like when he really outgrows us."

"It's going to get tough. Especially for a crazy, loving mommy like you."

"You have no idea how much I wish you were wrong…" Her eyes fixed on something that was behind David; when he turned around, he saw a picture of him and his sisters. One of them was certainly missed. "Have you known anything about Linda lately?" Jay asked, pointing at them.

"Not really. I tried to call her a couple of times, but she never answered."

"She doesn't want to talk to me either."

"He must keep her busy." He tried to control his sudden anger by going to get more ice-cubes. "I still don't understand. She could make do so much better."

"Well, she apparently loves him."

"He's a thirty-year-old, irresponsible punk. Do you want me to go on?"

"It's her decision, her life. There's nothing you or me can do. C'mon, David, we've tried to make her come to her senses, and it didn't work. Maybe she needs to figure things out on her own. Sometimes that's all it takes."

The truth of her speech had a weird effect on David. On one hand, he didn't understand why Linda would want to work on her issues by herself. On the other, he could see that in certain cases, it was absolutely necessary to shut one self out from the world. Not talking about being raped was his most immediate example.

"Are you all right?"

Jay's eyes on his startled him. For a moment, he'd lost contact with the room and with her. It had all been a messy blur until she'd raised her voice. "Yeah, don't worry about it. I'm fine." He turned around, looking for something to do, whatever it was, even if he knew it'd be useless.

"There ain't nothing you can hide from me, brother."

"Jay."

"_Don't_ lie to me. Tell me what's going on."

He turned to her, looked into her eyes and couldn't stand the though of her being disappointed of him. Fear had made this a perfect time for lame excuses. "I… I wouldn't know where to start…"

"Start from whatever you feel comfortable with. I knew that there was something going on with you when you called me yesterday. Your voice wasn't the same as usual." She entwined her fingers. "Marlon's taking care of Michael, so there's no rush. I'm here for you tonight, and you can be sure that there's nothing you can not tell me."

It was too late. David had known that this moment would come, because Jay always could persuade him to open up. Of course, he kept telling himself it wasn't like that, but once again this inevitable moment came – the one in which he basically told her everything.

His mind scared him. If he knew all these things, had he been subconsciously trying to find someone to talk about his problem?

He had no time to continue trying to figure out the reasons. Jay was staring back at him and he had this urge to _say_ it, to let the weight of it slip from his shoulders and get at least one bit of honesty on the matter.

So he did it. In a desperate tale, David summarized the main facts of the issues that hunted him. He told Jay about the rape in an implied way; then he mentioned the paternity test and the child Amita was carrying.

"No… No." Her body seemed to be lifeless, languid and completely out of energy. "Oh, my God. Dear Lord."

"I'm okay. I mean, it's great, but I'm not that bad, either."

Apparently, she didn't buy it. David didn't know if it was for good or for . "Jeez, are you listening to your own words? You're lying to yourself!"

"How can you know that? You're not in my head."

"No, I'm not, but I am your sister and I've always been there for you. So I'm sorry, but I have a word or two on this!" she yelled, waving her hands furiously as her face went from terrified to angry. "You need to go to therapy, talk to someone, make a decision on the kid that woman is going to have, do _something_ about this – not just pretending everything's okay!"

"Why? Just because Megan offered me some sessions with her? Because Don wants me to do my job, but he's as stressed out because of this as me? _No._ I'll do it when I'm ready, just like I will decide what the hell I'll do about that child when the paternity test is done!"

"It's not that simple and you know it! It's going to end up hurting you even more! Why do you keep…!" Her own crying stopped her from continuing, and she became silent.

David watched her trying to calm herself and thought how badly the conversation had gone. But when she walked to the other side of the counter, towards him, he understood that she was apologizing.

"I just… I don't know what to do."

_Well, there's two of us._ Overwhelmed, David muttered, "You can't do anything," and reached for her, guiding her into a soft hug.

"I love you," she whispered against his chest.

"Me, too." David could feel her whole body trembling and her thick hair tickling his face.

He forgot about all his expectations on this reunion. They made no sense. Looking around the dining room, he saw too it all too tidy, and then over calculated, and finally, it was scary – layer over layer, hiding a deeper lie.

He observed the two empty plates on the table, the glasses and the forks and knives ready to be used. After his confession, there would be finally a sign of honesty around the place…

Dinner would remain untouched.

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_**A/N: FEEDBACK IS LOVE.**_


	17. Think ahead

**Title:** "Think ahead"

**Series: **_In the Arms of the Wicked_, Part 17/?

**Characters:**Charlie/Colby, Don, Amita, Megan, McGowan.

**Rating:** M.

**Spoilers:** Season 5.

**Warnings:** None.

**Summary:**Charlie's not thinking ahead. Don tries to make him come to his senses and protect him at the same time.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything except my OCs.

**Beta:** Thanks to my amazing betas, twins_m0m and lilyg.

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**In the Arms of the Wicked**

**Part 17****: "Think ahead"**

Colby's arm accidentally brushed Charlie's shoulder, making him giggle.

"What was that?"

"Ah, I don't know…"

Feeling a little bit amused, Charlie turned around from the table and watched the way the soft light highlighted the best features of his lover's fine body. "You don't know."

"Well, I actually have an idea," Colby responded, smiling widely. His fingers started flipping the pages of a file.

"Does it have something to do with our… first date?" Charlie wanted to know. He turned to his laptop again and started another search on the Horus eye-fractions. "Are you nervous?"

For a moment, there was no answer. But suddenly Colby's voice whispered into Charlie's ear, "More than our real first date, when we ate pizza at your house and you told me you liked me?" He was leaning over the other man's back suggestively. "Probably."

Charlie smiled, thinking that from the outside of the war room, no one would take the gesture as more than a guy trying to see the data on the screen of the laptop. "I am… I wonder how it's going to turn out."

"Me, too… But I think it's going to be great, no matter what we do."

"Hmmm. I would kiss you right now if I could," Charlie whispered – Colby's lips a few centimeters from his now. They curved in a sweet smile, which turned into a grin.

"Charlie… There are people out there."

"Maybe when EAD Cameron listens to those tapes, we won't have to worry about that anymore."

"Maybe… but we should also be ready for the bad consequences."

Charlie didn't reply, instead returned to focusing on the screen. Numbers were running, trying to find a pattern. He didn't even want to think about what people would say about him being gay. He didn't even know how he'd react, he didn't know how much such a revelation would affect his job and his life. In a way, he knew that he should think ahead and make plans for each possible scenario. He always did it, his math always worked. But since Colby had become a variable of his life equation, Charlie had realized that things weren't that simple. His lover had introduced factors he'd never considered, he'd changed the way his rationality worked.

Of course, Charlie felt proud that he had thrown his calculations out of the window when he'd started their relationship, even knowing that they had only 5 percent chance of success. But he had to admit that without math and logic, he felt slightly lost.

Not that being with Colby didn't help him to forget about it most of the time.

"Did you find anything?" the green-eyed agent asked, interrupting Charlie's train of thought.

"No… Nothing I can tie to the case, at least… So far, all I think could be relevant is that the addition of the fractions turns out to be 63/64, which is pretty close to a unity." Tired, Charlie rubbed his eyes. "Ah, it seems that this isn't going anywhere. We don't even have all the data on this cult. Those people steal Egyptian antiques and bury them..."

Colby pointed at the numbers analysis Charlie was running. "And according to your program, locations are random. There's not premeditation when it comes to where to put those statues for LAPD or the FBI to find them."

"Exactly. It's so frustrating…" As he shook his head, Charlie felt a hand caressing his shoulder, barely brushing the curls in the back of his head. "I know. I gotta calm down."

"Yep. You know that we're going to figure it out eventually." Colby took a deep breath and sat at another computer. Two minutes later, he called Charlie.

"What? What do you have?" He looked at the displayed data. "_Symbolism _and _numerology_?"

"It's a cult after all, isn't it? They gotta have some very strong beliefs. The key could be here."

"It's like the Clay Porter case…" When Charlie said those words, he realized that Colby's eyes got darker. All his energy seemed to be gone.

"Besides representing the unit, the Eye of Horus means protection against spells and curses coming from an enemy. Maybe the message means 'Protect yourself' or something along those lines."

"Hmmm… That makes sense. But you're right about this numbers having a meaning for them. We should take a closer look at it. I'm going to ask Larry to help you while I talk to Don."

When Charlie started walking towards the door, he heard his lover's voice saying, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I just need some fresh air…" the mathematician answered as he left the room feeling frustrated that not even his own math could help solve the case. Besides not being useful for the FBI, it wasn't useful to his personal life, either, and that was one of the things that frightened him the most.

**XxX**

_He's always there. When does he go for coffee? Does the man ever leave his office?_

"Don?" Megan's voice said.

Startled, Don stopped staring at his watch and looked up. "Yeah, what did you want to tell me?"

"I…" she sat down next to him and left a file on his desk with trembling hands, "I don't feel very good… I was wondering if I could go home earlier today. I know that David left a while ago, too, but Larry, Charlie and Colby will probably stay and…"

Her speech was becoming long and random, even after all the coffee she had drunk. It wasn't a good sign, as she was always so focused. Don observed the way her eyes looked exhausted; her face was tense and she kept biting her lip. There was no way she was feeling all right.

"Sure, sure… You can go home, I'll stay here with the others and let you know if we have something," he ended up saying. "Get some rest."

She looked into his eyes, as if her mind was far away. "Thank you," Megan finally whispered. Clumsily, she got up and went to grab her coat and her stuff. Watching her

made Don get very worried about her. He'd have to talk to Larry about what was going on with her.

Thinking that everything was falling apart, Don found his attention being driven towards his plans one more time. _When will he leave? Doesn't he have other responsibilities but keeping an eye on us?_ He got up from his desk and walked towards the corridor as if nothing weird was happening. Yawning, he leaned on the wall and looked both ways; the man hadn't left his office yet.

Don felt a little bit discouraged and nervous. Trying to calm himself down, he took out his cell phone and ran his thumb over the keys, not dialing any number. _Will she answer my call? She better do it. If she ever loved Charlie, that's the last thing she…_

"Hey."

The familiar voice startled Don, and when he turned around, there was Charlie in front of him. "Oh, hey. I'm sorry. I'm having trouble keeping focused."

"Don't worry about it… Are you expecting a call?"

Surprised by the question, Don remembered that his phone was still in his hands. "Well… You know, someone could call eventually and tell us something really big about the Eye of Horus," he excused himself. He rapidly put his cell phone inside his pocket. "Did you get anything useful?"

"Not really, but Colby wants to work on the literal Egyptian meaning of it."

"From the look on your face, I can tell you don't like that."

Charlie shook his head. "You know that to me, numbers are numbers. There's no underlying significance. Figures don't keep secrets from us, they are what they are and that's it. It's like us being brothers, we're supposed to tell each other everything."

_Or maybe almost everything. _Don tried to control his expressions as he'd been doing the entire day, but this time, Charlie caught his nervousness.

"Is everything all right?"

Strangely, his brother didn't seem really curious. From the way he looked at Don, he seemed to have an idea of what might be going on. _Please, don't ask me about the tapes. Please, don't. _"Yeah…"

"Um…" Charlie fixed his eyes on the floor for a moment, and then looked up again. "Could we talk for a moment? In private?"

_God._ "Yeah, sure, buddy." _Damn it. _"Why don't we get in there?" He pointed at one of the empty offices that were near them.

They both walked into the room, and nearly sweating, Don closed the door. He rubbed his palms and refused to sit down. Charlie didn't take a seat either; he stared back at his brother as a table kept them apart and silence felt endless.

"Don…"

"Yeah?"

"What's wrong?"

"What's _wrong_?" Don repeated, smiling and feeling the guilt of having a secret plan. "Nothing."

"Something has to be bothering you."

"Charlie, you know me. If there was anything to talk about, I'd tell you."

"Would you?" Charlie asked. His eyes were full of doubt.

Don swallowed before answering, "Of course."

For a moment, no word was spoken.

Until Charlie broke the silence again. "What about the tapes Cameron has?"

"What about them? There's nothing to say about that issue, but I promise that I'll try and talk to him…"

"_Talk_ to him?" Charlie shook his head. "You were planning on doing that and you didn't tell me?"

"No, I…"_ Fix this, Don. Don't screw up this time._

"See? I knew it. We'd have to talk about this eventually."

"Well, I'm sorry, but it won't be right now. There's a lot of work to do."

"What if we do it at home, when…?"

"No, forget it. I don't want to get into a fight with you in front of Dad. His heart's still delicate…"

"A fight? So I was right, then." Charlie immediately folded his arms.

_Yes, you were! So what?_ "What do you want me say, Charlie? Yes! But I don't want to talk about it!"

"You're obviously mad! You're yelling at me!"

_Okay, that's it. You asked for it._ "Well, that's what you deserve!"

"For what? What did I do now? You know, it's not my fault that those tapes are back and that you're so overprotective!"

"_What?" _Don snapped.

Charlie put his hands on the table. "I keep telling you not to mess things up by trying to fix everything by yourself! And you don't get it, Don! You _don't_ get it!"

"So _I'm_ the one who doesn't get it now."

"Yeah! You keep thinking you're like an extra dad to me, assuming that I'm not an adult and that I can't deal with things!"

"Really? Maybe it's because you still act like a kid!" _You do and you don't even notice!_

Overwhelmed by the discussion he didn't want to have, Don turned around and took a few steps. He ran his hands over his forehead, trying to calm down, but he could still hear Charlie's voice behind him. His brother wasn't done yet.

"I'm beyond thirty years old, Don. Protecting me isn't your task!"

"It is, Charlie. Especially when you're not using your head."

"Ha. I'm not… using…"

_You're so…_ "You're not thinking ahead, Charlie!"

"I am!"

"No, you're not! You're too naïve, you don't know how things work here at the FBI!" Don turned around, facing his brother. "If those tapes come out, you can't expect people to just understand you and accept the fact that you have a boyfriend!"

"I'm not expecting that! Of course I know that there will be stuff for me and Colby to get through!"

"I don't think so. In fact, I think you're too busy with Colby to actually start planning what the hell you're going to do when everybody discovers what's going on between you and him!"

"Colby? You're blaming _him_?"

Don tried to calm down and not to yell. "That's not what I meant and you know it."

Charlie was out of control. "God, I thought we were _way _passed that, but it seems that you still have to deal with the fact that your brother is gay and there's _nothing_ you can do about it!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands to the air. "What happened to that speech you gave me a few months ago in front of dad and Colby, huh? I came home with the broken picture of mom, ready to face everyone there, and you said, 'I don't have the right to judge you. I'm sorry, Charlie.' It was obviously a lie."

"It wasn't, damn it!" Don said, hitting the table.

"I'm_ trying_ to regain what I had with the person I like… It's so hard with the Amita situation and what she did to him, and your way to _help_ is throwing all this crapat me?" Charlie's hands trembled as he spoke. "And trust me, I'm scared to death of what might happen when those tapes come out. But no one, not even you, is going to ruin this thing I have with Colby. It's not like it used to be, Don. I don't depend on you anymore."

"Oh, really."

"Yes. You know what? I think you're jealous."

Astonished, Don didn't like the meaning of that. "Jealous? That's ridiculous." He watched Charlie walk towards him.

"Are you going to tell me that you've never thought how lucky Colby and I are? Are you going to swear to me that you've never wished you had someone as important in your life?"

Don tried to give him an answer, but words got caught in his throat. He had no idea what that was. "I… I…"

"Save it," his brother said. "And I don't need your help. I don't want it."

"Charlie…"

"No, no. And let me say this once again, Don. Neither you, nor anyone is going to stand between Colby and me, do you understand me?"

He turned around, and Don knew that he'd find a surprise at the door. Charlie's eyes widen when he saw Colby there, looking at him in confusion. He'd obviously caught part of the conversation.

"I huh… Larry had an interesting idea and I came here to…" Colby took a breath, looking at Charlie and then at Don as he held a handful of papers. "Never mind."

Charlie passed him by, putting a hand on his arm as he passed by. "We have a date. Let's not worry about this," he said before storming out of the room.

However, Colby remained, looking into Don's eyes across the room. He didn't say anything, obviously on Charlie's side.

"Colby…" Don muttered, but Colby had left the room with a sad expression on his face. Don grabbed his head. "Jeez!" _Why can't you say what you really mean without screwing up?_

**XxX**

Playing with a pen turned out to be a very interesting thing to do. It actually helped clear Don's mind, in a way. He kept going through each one of Charlie's words. Some of them hurt… a lot. Maybe because they were true.

He threw the pen to the table. His brother was screaming inside his head… Scenes from their fight were coming together in flashes… Don put a hand over his eyes as he went back to them.

"**You know, it's not my fault that those tapes are back and that you're so overprotective!"**

_I'm a good brother. I'm doing what it takes to protect him, I'm not trying to take over his life._

"**I keep telling you not to mess things up by trying to fix everything by yourself! And you don't get it, Don! You **_**don't**_** get it!"**

_I do get it. That's why I'm doing this._

**You're too naïve, you don't know how things work here at the FBI!"**

_I've been here for a long time. Things are not the way they're written in the manual. Not really._

"**Colby? You're blaming **_**him**_**?"**

Stressed, Don rubbed his eyes.

"**I came home with the broken picture of mom, ready to face everyone there, and you said, 'I don't have the right to judge you. I'm sorry, Charlie.' It was obviously a lie."**

"**It wasn't, damn it!" Don said, hitting the table.**

His fingers tapped the table in a frenetic rhythm. Either playing the piano or playing with that pen soothed Don's soul to the level he'd been able to discover just now. _It wasn't a lie. I'm just… I don't know how I feel._

"**But no one, not even you, is going to ruin this thing I have with Colby."**

He took a deep breath._ I don't want to ruin anything!_

"**It's not like it used to be, Don. I don't depend on you anymore."**

_That's true, you don't depend on me. But that won't keep me from helping you anyway. It'll take you a while to see it, and then you'll thank me… someday… if you ever notice._

"**You know what? I think you're jealous."**

"**That's ridiculous."**

"**Are you going to tell me that you've never thought how lucky Colby and I are? Are you going to swear to me that you've never wished you had someone as important in your life?"**

Just like it'd happened before, no words escaped Don's lips. Not even in his mind he could figure out an answer. The scariest part was that in a way he did envy what Charlie and Colby had. Worried, he caressed his chin and took a deep breath again. _Let's hope this works…If is doesn't, I don't…_

The door suddenly opened with a rough sound. A breathless Larry entered the office. "Don, you have to come with me. Now."

Don jumped out of his chair and followed him until they were near their desks, in front of a TV. "Oh my God… This is serious," he muttered when he saw Farrow's jet on fire.

Larry talked fast and awkwardly. "I've called Charlie, Colby, David and Megan."

"Thanks. I guess we're going to work here all night." _Maybe I'll get my chance... _When he saw Carl coming towards them with a worried look on his face, he knew it was the right moment to perform his plan. _Finally, he's out._

**XxX**

The news about the jet explosion spread over the office very fast, and in half an hour, everyone was already analyzing the possible causes of the fire and the direct attack to Farrow. Don kept giving orders, since none of his agents had arrived yet and Larry had locked himself in the war room, trying to find a definite answer.

By his side, Carl was as bossy as him, but his tone of voice was a bit pleased. Every time he said Farrow's name, a crooked smile came to his face. It wasn't a surprise, and the thrill of the hunt would be beneficial to Don.

When Carl wasn't paying attention to him and his eyes were fixed on the flames on the screen, Don escaped to the corridor and confidently walked through it. He made it look like he was looking inside Carl's office and then he stood by the door, resting his back on the wall, looking at his watch. Agents passed him by talking to each other, never even looking at him. _C'mon… C'mon…_

And for a few seconds, the corridor was empty. Don got into the office and crawled towards the desk, making a good use of the shadows that filled most of the room. He waited there for a while, looking at the door and the corridor, making himself sure he was safe. No one came nor tried to look inside. He thanked that Carl had always refused to keep security cameras in his office, even if Don had always thought it was a way to keep some of his most inappropriate interrogations away from his superior's eyes.

_Do it._

Carl's computer was on and running and Don took out his cell phone. He couldn't sit on the chair nor let his head pop out from behind the desk, just in case he caught someone's attention. He put the cell phone against his ear, hearing it ring… _Pick up. Pick up, pick up, pick up._

"Don?" Amita finally said.

"Yes," he whispered. He could imagine her swallow before she spoke.

"What do you need?"

"I want information on someone who's basically unreachable."

"You mean… classified data." Her voice was shaky and almost unrecognizable.

"Something like that." Don tried to calm himself down; adrenaline was getting to him. "Listen to me. You entered the DOJ database by yourself using your computer techniques. That's how you found Bob Berenson's deepest background and worked with cross references. I want you to tell me how to do that."

"It's not that easy, because I don't know what you're working with.... It could not work. It's been weeks since I…"

"I _don't_ care about that, Amita. All you have to do is talk. I'm at a computer. Guide me and I'll take care of the rest." On alert, he waited for her answer. _You better start singing or…_

"Okay..."

Don balanced his cell phone against his ear with his shoulder as he reached for the keyboard. "Go."

"The first thing you have to do… is type the code I'm going to give you… when you try to access the database."

She was sobbing on the other side of the line. Trying to be as fast as possible, Don followed her instructions and even took a few pictures of the screen for Amita to know what she was dealing with. He whispered to her what the menus and codes said, he typed in every number and symbol she said. He did everything she told him to do, believing that she was being honest and that she wouldn't make him screw up.

From time to time, when someone passed by the office, he hid behind the desk, feeling his heart pound hard inside his chest. But when it was clear again, he came back to the computer and did his best to get what he wanted and get the hell out of there.

_Hurry up. Damn it._

"Open the search… Enter the name."

Don held his breath as his fingers danced over the keyboard.

**Noah Cameron.**

A complete profile was displayed in front of Don's eyes and he rapidly read the most important data. _Noah Jeremiah Cameron… Belongs to the Security Clearance Investigations Program… He went into protective custody? No wonder why he's so hard to find._ "Done," he said. "How do I get out of here without leaving a trail?"

"You have to… Oh, no." Don noticed Amita's breathing going faster and faster and the sound of a second voice on the other side of the line. Then she was talking to someone… Someone who was asking her where she'd gotten the cell phone. "I… I…"

The call was over. Don relied only on hope that no one would find he'd been stealing data from Carl's computer, but that didn't seem that important right now. Breathing hard, he took in the words that were displayed on Carl's screen.

There they were - the address and cell phone of Noah Cameron – _the ghost_.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

_**A/N: FEEDBACK IS LOVE.**_


	18. Do you regret it?

**Title:** "Do you regret it?"

**Series: **_In the Arms of the Wicked_, Part 18/?

**Characters:** Colby/Charlie, Liz/David, Don, Larry, OFC, Megan, Amita.

**Rating:** M.

**Spoilers:** Season 5.

**Warnings:** None.

**Summary:** While Charlie and Colby talk about their future, Liz finds out that Don's keeping secrets from her and the rest of the team.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything except my OCs.

**Beta:** Thanks to my amazing betas, twins_m0m and Lily G. Special thanks to the lovely harknessgirl for reading this before I posted it.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

**In the Arms of the Wicked**

**Part 18****: "Do you regret it?"**

"I hate it when he tries to fix things for me. He doesn't get that I can handle them on my own. Do you know what he said to me?" Charlie saw Colby shake his head. "He told me that he was going to take care of the tapes. That he was going to talk to Cameron, who is basically unreachable with our security clearance level!"

Colby loved to hear Charlie talk, but right now he was honestly tired that the only thing they were talking about was Don. He had other ideas in his mind when he and his lover had agreed to go on this improvised date. Discussing Don's decisions wasn't part of his plan, and Colby could have gone with it if it wasn't that Charlie was monopolizing the conversation and didn't seem to be interested in anything else.

Tired, Colby took a deep breath and reached for his fork for the tenth time. He didn't want the night to become only their dinner at the coffee shop. "He's going to get in trouble."

"And that's not even the worst part of his little speech. He said that I wasn't thinking ahead and that I didn't have a plan in case everyone found out we're together."

Suddenly, the conversation took another direction in the agent's mind. Something important had caught his attention. "But… that's true," he muttered. "We haven't really decided anything about what we're going to do when our secret is out."

Charlie rubbed his palms, not looking at his lover. "I know."

"And that's what's making you angry – that Don's right about that." There was no response from the other man; Charlie simply drank his beer. It was the right time for Colby to move on and get the chance to talk about their relationship. "Actually, I was looking forward to talking about it tonight. I don't know if you're up for it now though, after your fight with Don."

Charlie put his beer down and looked into Colby's eyes. "I am up for it, Colby. I just wished I could clear my head from all these thoughts…"

"Numbers?"

"In a way. They're probabilities about… _us_."

"Oh," Colby whispered, a little bit scared that Charlie might back out like in the old days. "The five percent, that's what you're worried about?"

"Not exactly. It's the consequences of it. If there's ninety five percent chance that people won't approve of what we have, our lives are going to change dramatically."

_So here we go again…_ "Mhm," was the only thing Colby could say. Disappointed and waiting for the well known outcome, he lazily ate his dinner.

"But I know that I want to be with you and that you mean more to me than anyone else's words."

_What?_ Astonished, Colby lifted his eyes from the plate and fixed them on Charlie, following each movement of his face, trying to catch a sign of honesty and affection. And he found it – he found truth in his lover's eyes. But he also found fear.

"I have to admit that I'm scared, though. For both of us," Charlie confessed, looking worried.

Colby left his fork on his plate and leaned on the table. "You know, when I was in the Army, everyone said that if a soldier was found to be gay, he'd be automatically dismissed. This man named John was discovered in a cheap room with his partner…"

"And what happened?"

"It turned out that what people said was right, at least in that case." After that anecdote, Charlie's eyes became sad, so Colby added, "But I've heard of other military men who haven't had that problem. The thing is, Charlie, I'm not in the Army anymore. We're FBI, and the Bureau is a lot more permissive now on sexual orientation than it was ten years ago."

Charlie focused on his dinner for the first time in the last ten minutes. "I'm going to check that, just in case they changed the rules or add any exceptions," he said before taking the fork into his mouth.

"Good idea." It really was, but there was a point Colby needed to make, just in case. "Charlie… You're right, things are going to change and we don't know how, no matter how many calculations or plans we make. But I want you to know something – I don't want to lose what we just restarted, no matter how weird it is right now."

Smiling briefly, the mathematician asked, "Me neither… but I'd like to ask something…"

"Shoot."

The question didn't come up immediately; Charlie rubbed his palms as if he was trying to find the best way to put it in words. "Um… What will you say when people ask you if you would have liked things to be different? What if they want to know if you have any regrets?"

Leaning even more over the table, Colby took a deep breath and said, "I'll tell them that… I wouldn't change a thing." He smiled and his lover did, too, as a reflection. They stared at each other; it was quite a pleasurable moment for Colby. When Charlie's cell phone rang, the magic was still in the air, but it ended abruptly with some very bad news.

"What's going on?" Colby asked when Charlie's face got tense. His lover asked him to hold on as he listened to the person who had called.

His eyes soon landed on Colby and widened. "_What?_ The jet _exploded_?"

"Farrow's jet?"

In a minute, they had paid for dinner and were on their way to the FBI. Colby considered that their date had been shorter than he hoped or expected, but he was glad that he and Charlie figured things out without fighting or breaking up for once.

**XxX**

The TV show was funny and entertaining as any prime time sitcom. The crackers were not very crunchy, but at least they kept her busy. Tired of being alone in bed watching TV, Liz sipped her tea and stared at her cell phone.

_Call him. Just to talk for five minutes so you stop feeling useless for a change._ She ended up turning off the TV and dialing David's number. "Hey," she said when his voice came up. "What's wrong? You sound worried."

"Um… I've been talking to my sister. Long story."

"Oh, my God. You told about what happened with… the India case. Amita."

David took a breath. "Yeah."

_Nice time you chose to call, Warner._ Running her hand over her forehead, Liz thought she'd made a big mistake. "Then I'll leave you to…"

"It's okay. I'm in my car, on my way to the office. Did you watch the news?"

"No," she responded, remembering the sitcom. She turned on the TV and flipped the channels until a picture of Dr. Farrow and the sequence of a jet crashing into a building hit her. "I'm on my way, too."

"No, Liz, you need to rest…"

"David, there's nothing you can do to keep me away from doing my job. I feel useless in this bed. See you there." As she got out of bed, Liz was about to hang up when she heard David asking her to wait. "What is it?"

"I'm going to pick you up. I don't think it's good for you to drive yet."

_Whatever._ "Okay, I'll wait for you, but hurry up," she muttered before hanging up and running to the bathroom. She took a quick bath and comfy, casual clothes to go to the office. She didn't put any make up on, and she put her hair up in a pony tail. Her body still hurt a little bit, but she hated to be in a bed without helping her team.

Soon the bell rang. It was David. "Thirty seconds, David!" she yelled through the phone as she grabbed one of her bags, her badge and her gun.

Downstairs, she found David beside his car, looking at his watch. "Thirty seven."

"Well, I was at the hospital until today," she said as she got in the car.

David got in, too, but before turning on the engine, he asked her one more question. "Are you sure…?"

Liz already knew the answer. "Yes, I am. Now let's go." She was serious, but soon the conversation turned to laughs and jokes. A few minutes later, Liz had a big smile on her face. "Meet David Sinclair, my partner and professional nurse."

"Hey, is it that bad that I care about you? Because I could stop," David told her. She glanced at him, grinning. _Spill the truth, c'mon. _"Nah, I couldn't," he confessed, taking his eyes back to the road.

"It's good to know you've got my back." She enjoyed his smile and rested her chin on her hand, looking out the window. It was late and they had a case, but the lights of the city were beautiful. How ironic that was.

Once at the FBI, they got into the elevator. Her chest got high at the feeling of stepping into the office again. Everybody was working hard, she could tell. "It seems that it's going to be a long night."

"You can bet on it," David whispered before they went towards McGowan. The agent was among a group of people that were updating him with the news on the destroyed jet. "We're here."

As soon as McGowan landed his gaze on Liz, he frowned. "Agent Warner, shouldn't you be on medical leave?"

"Duty calls. I'm fine," she responded humbly, putting her hands on her hips and giving the man her best smile, even if she felt a bit tired. McGowan watched her for a moment; then he came back to his agents.

One of them said, "We've got a contact in Arizona. He says it was definitely intentional."

"There was a bomb in the fuselage," another added, with the tube of the phone next to his ear. "There were traces of explosive in the area in a three hundred meters range."

"A warning. What did Farrow get into that is costing him his valuable property?" McGowan muttered, almost to himself, as his lips curved in one corner.

David and Liz took at each other. "Do you see Don?" she asked him, knowing that McGowan was probably too lost in his conspiracy theories to pay any attention to her. David shook his head and walked towards the war room, where Larry seemed to be working insanely on fractions. In the meantime, Liz checked the break room and the interrogation rooms, but didn't find Don. She ended up in the corridor, asking people if they had seen him. She got all negatives.

Until she accidentally caught a weird shape in McGowan's office. She looked around and saw that no one seemed to have noticed it. Carefully, she stood by the door, trying to figure out what it was.

Don's head popped out from behind the desk for a moment as one of his hands held his cell phone against his ear and the other one reached for the mouse. Liz lost her composure when suddenly his eyes were on hers. He looked as shocked as she felt. Don lifted his hand from the mouse, asking her to hold on.

She mouthed, "What are you doing?" but then turned around and tried to look normal as a group of agents passed her by. _You gotta be kidding me!_ She didn't look inside anymore; she'd wait for Don to come out. When he did, being careful that no one saw him, she still couldn't believe what she'd seen. "What were you doing in there?" she snapped when he approached her.

"Liz…"

"Were you stealing data from McGowan's computer?"

"Don't make any questions. I know that you don't understand this but…"

Liz watched Don's eyes getting darker and she recognized that look on his face – the same he'd given her when he'd told her he was confused about where their relationship was going.

"Just stay out of this, Liz. I don't want you to get in trouble. Please," he muttered. Upset, Liz stared at him. She then folded her arms and looked at her feet. She felt Don place his hand on her shoulder. Then it was gone. "Thank you."

Watching him walk away, she couldn't stop thinking her boss' assumptions were ridiculous. _I'm sorry, Don, but you're not going to get rid of me like that._ She followed him back to where McGowan was and watched him ask for the latest news on the jet. As he caught up, she decided to see what David and Larry had to say.

"Hey, Larry," she greeted the physicist when she entered the war room.

"Hey," Larry muttered, hiding his face under his hands.

"What's going on?" It was obvious that something was wrong. The screens of the war room were filled with an Egyptian eye and the table was covered with papers full of fractions and calculations.

"The Horus-eye, that's what's going on," David replied, glancing at Larry, who only then spoke.

"All I can see are… uncertainties. Even if this symbol has a deep, strong meaning for an entire civilization."

"What meaning, Larry?"

"Protection," the physicist said, and he took a deep breath. He got up, leaning on his sprained ankle, and looked at one of the screens. "Colby got to the same conclusion with the research he did. He said that the cult could be using this strategy to warn him against working with the FBI on this particular case, telling him not to collaborate anymore if he wants to stay safe."

"The only way to protect himself is walking away," David concluded.

"Yes. But I'm not convinced of that theory." Skeptical, Larry turned around and waved his hands as he spoke with passion. "Why would anyone want to tell Christopher to protect himself? This comes from a complex hierarchic structure that has an aim and that aim is obviously destroying his life."

"Why would they bother to warn him about it? Why not just act when he least expects it?" Liz stood beside Larry, looked at the screens, too, and noticed the numbers that were attached to the Horus-eye. "Every part is connected to a different fraction."

"And all of them, when added," Larry said, taking one of the many papers that were on the table, "give us a single number. 63/64."

Confused, Liz stared at the giant drawings of the eye in front of her. "What does that tell us?"

"It looks like that's a very specific fraction," David added.

"So far, that something's missing. The addition is supposed to be connected to the number one, but although it's near that figure, it's not it exactly. That issue was considered in Ancient Egypt, but it was skipped as something natural. The remaining 1/64 was taken as the representation of what completes the symbol and the unity."

As she listened to Larry, Liz had the feeling there was more than that in the mathematical problem. It reminded her of an old case involving Clay Porter and the people following a serial killer. "So… there's something we don't know yet," she whispered.

Larry slowly nodded. "A mystery that's in the dark and that only can be discovered by those whose minds are reached by the light…"

The door suddenly opened. When Liz turned around, she found Charlie telling her and the others, "We've got Ian on the line." He came in before Colby, Megan, McGowan and two techs. Don was the last one to enter the room. He glanced at Liz, reminding her of their last talk. _Like that's going to keep my mouth shut._ She turned on the phone that was in the war room and put it in the center of the table. No one even bothered to take Larry's papers away.

"Ian, do you have any idea what caused it?" Don asked.

The sniper's voice came from the other side of the line. "I think you have a better chance to find it out there, Don. We found out because of the news. Right now Farrow's trying to figure out some kind of meaning that's related to fractions or something. The Horus-eye, he says."

"Does he have anything yet?"

"I don't think so. He's in the library. I've been keeping an eye on him, waiting for news, and all I see is him walking around and dismissing book after book."

"It's a coping technique. Obsession's allowed when an answer is desperately needed," Megan explained. Charlie nodded, as if he understood exactly what she meant.

Larry folded his arms. "Megan's diagnostic is very accurate. Just let him work and you'll probably get a solution soon."

"Is there anything you could help us with?"

"Not really. My analysis is useless so far."

"But we're doing our best," David muttered, patting Larry's shoulder.

It was nice for Liz to see that little friendly, supportive gesture. She said, "Yes, Larry and all of us are working hard on it."

"Professor Eppes?" Ian called.

Visibly uncomfortable, Charlie glanced at Don and frowned. Then he fixed his eyes on the phone. "I don't have anything to add, really. The math of the Horus-eye is simple but there's a subjective component I'm not 100% sure of."

"What Charlie means," Colby continued, "is that the Horus-eye has something to do with protection. What we still don't understand is why the cult would tell Farrow to watch out."

Thoughtful, Larry gave his opinion on that matter. "It's a possible explanation, but we'd like to be sure before making any conclusions."

Don concluded, "So we'll be in touch, Ian. Whatever happens, gives us a call." He took out his cell phone and his fingers danced over the keys.

"All right, Don."

"Be careful."

"I always am."

When the conversation was over, Don put his cell phone on the table and looked at his brother. He seemed to want to say something, but Charlie avoided him. Liz caught that something was off between them, and she wondered if that was the reason why Don was acting like a man who wanted to lose his job. She kept thinking about it as the others left the war room. Only Larry remained with her.

"Don forgot his cell phone. Could you give it to him?" he said, grabbing the device that had been left on the table and handing it to Liz.

"Sure," she said, but once she came out with it, she took her time to check it out. The last call had been made to…

Liz frowned and her breath got caught in her throat when Don passed her by. His eyes were on hers, watching every single movement. He'd never looked that scared or worried. "Here, you left this in the war room." She handed him the cell phone and got the feeling that something really bad was going to happen. The last registered call said that he'd called his other cell phone, and that triggered a new question. _Who has it now?_

**XxX**

"Where did you get that?" the blonde woman asked Amita, taking the cell phone from her trembling hands.

"I um…" Running her fingers through her thick hair, Amita took a grip on the sheets that covered her. The bed suddenly didn't seem big enough for her to escape from the person who'd been watching her for the last few days. "I was…"

"This is against the rules and you know it." The other man showed her the cell phone and then started to analyze it. "Who were you talking to?"

It was hard to stand up to her; the blonde lady didn't wear a nurse's uniform or a lab coat. She was dressed like administrative staff – a formal skirt and a nice silky blouse. Her presence was intimidating.

The last time she'd been around had been when Amita had been taken to a special wing of the psychological centre so the doctors could take a sample of her child's DNA. As the test was being performed, Amita could feel some physical pain from her leg; she remembered Ian putting a bullet into it. Looking at her abdomen, she could not bear the tragedy of having a kid she hadn't wished for. It'd been her stupid mistake. She'd gone for it. She'd forced David to do something horrible and now an innocent child would pay the consequences – having an insane mother and a father who would never want to see him or her.

Now, after days of resting, after Don's little visit, after his call, the blonde was there again, examining the cell phone. She was probably going to make Amita learn that rules were rules and she had to follow them. The woman repeated, "I said, who were you talking to?"

"Agent Eppes," Amita mumbled. "He… He forgot his cell phone when he came to see me and he called to see who had it…" Her messy fingers squeezed the edges of the sheets, looking for something to get the tension out. She watched the lady walk towards the door. "I'm going to regret this, aren't I?" she called. The blonde turned to her, her blue eyes so serious that it seemed she could read the patient's mind.

Amita never got an answer. She was left alone without the woman saying another word. Desperate, she grabbed her head and couldn't stop the tears from coming to her eyes. "Why did I have to do it? Why didn't I just go to India?" she asked herself, squeezing her ears as if she could make her brain react and make the right decisions for once. _Not that there will be another chance for me to try something different. Don's call let me help a bit, but… it's not enough. Nothing will ever be enough to fix what I did… I can't do it. I can't._

The truth was that no matter what she'd said to anyone, she would give anything to be able to turn back time.

**XxX**

Lillian didn't even care about all those people waiting for nurses and doctors; all she cared about was finding Richard. It was four in the morning and the lack of sleep had made her strangely focused on that single thing.

Her hand tapped the receptionist's desk. "Hello. I'm looking for Mr. Richard Peyton; he's one of the survivors of the jet that caught fire. It's all over the news."

"Ah, yes, I remember him. Could you wait for a second as I look up his room, please?" a young receptionist asked her.

"Of course, and thank you. You're very kind, my dear." She'd find Richard, and he'd be okay. She could ask Chris to transfer him to a better hospital. Yes, that's what she'd do.

"Room 52." The receptionist gave Lillian all the instructions she needed to get there.

"Thank you again," the older woman said, and then went to find her friend. She didn't stand before room 52's door; she just went and opened it as soon as she found it. She had to see him, see how bad his injuries were…

There was no one inside.

"How?" There was the possibility she'd entered the wrong room. In a second, she checked. Yes, this _was _room 52, but there were no traces of Richard there. Deciding there must have been a mistake, she turned around and returned to the receptionist. "Excuse me, excuse me. I believe room number 52 is not the one where Richard Peyton is staying."

The receptionist looked up the name again, but she said that it had to be that room. Tired of dealing with incompetent people, Lillian took a breath and tried not to freak out, like kids said nowadays. Maybe Chris would know what to do. She called him. When Farrow answered the phone, she skipped the greeting, and said, "I need to talk to you."

"Lily…"

"He's gone."

"What?" Chris snapped. "What do you mean, Richard's _gone_?"

"I mean that he's not in his room. He's not in this hospital."

"Could he have been transferred?"

Lilly shook her head. She took out the little Horus-eye trinket necklace she kept under her shirt and squeezed it. "No. They say they have him here, but he's not there, do you understand me? I'm thinking something bad happened to him."

"Something like what?"

She was very careful to choose the right words to speak her mind. "I believe someone… got him out of here without his permission. I see lots of trolleys here. They could have passed him off as a dead person."

There was silence in the other side of the line. "Okay. That's possible, considering the jet crash. Someone's going after me. They could want money. Maybe they kidnapped him. I'll wait for a call. Thanks for letting me know, Lily. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Take care, Chris. I mean it."

"Yeah, don't worry."

After hanging up, she waited a second. There had to be a way for her to calm down. When her cell phone rang, she answered without really thinking about it. It had to be Chris…

"How is the seeking?" a well-known, distorted voice came up.

She stopped in her tracks. It wasn't the cell phone she used to call the cult; it was the one she kept for close friends. They didn't know her face, they didn't know her real name. Everyone always used masks in their meetings… How could they know that number?

"What is this?" she snapped. Her voice didn't tremble; weakness wasn't something they liked. "How did you get this number? This isn't what we agreed…"

"You have lost your right to claim rules to be applied."

"What does that mean?" Worried, Lillian held the phone tight, pressing it against her ear so hard that it almost hurt. Her heart was beating faster, and the hospital's background voices were making her dizzy.

The answer finally came. "We know what you stole and what you did with it. We know _everything_."

Lillian's mouth hung open in shock. Her eyelashes trembled as she tried to blink. All of a sudden she felt fire inside of her; she was panicking and that was something she really didn't want to happen.

"Do you have any regrets?" the distorted voice asked.

Nothing came out of her mouth. She was losing her ability to breathe.

"Then that's your choice. Now face the consequences… Lillian."

The cell phone slipped from her fingers when she heard her real name.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

_**A/N: FEEDBACK IS LOVE.**_


	19. Ride it

**Title:** "Ride it"

**Series: **_In the Arms of the Wicked_, Part 19/?

**Characters:**Ian/OMC, Don, OCs.

**Rating:** M.

**Spoilers:** None.

**Warnings:** None.

**Summary:**Ian and Dr. Farrow share a revealing ride.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything except my OCs.

**Beta:** Thanks to my amazing betas, fredbassett, twins_m0m and Lily G. Special thanks to harknessgirl for reading this before I posted it.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

**In the Arms of the Wicked**

**Part 19****: "Ride it"**

Archeologists were strange and intense when a mystery was presented to them. They acted like it was the challenge that would redefine their lives, a single problem that would make up for the rest.

Farrow was no exception. Since Lillian had left the house and taken her car to the hospital where their friend Richard was a patient, he'd spent his time working on the question of who could have set his jet on fire and buried the antiques underground. He'd flipped the pages of a hundred books in his library, a room as old and dusty as the rest of the house. Four bulbs, located in strategic areas, gave plenty of light to work in.

Ian had observed the entire process – Farrow's dark look as his fingers brushed the rough surface of the pages, the dust spat out when the books were violently closed after they offered no clues to solving the mystery. He watched how Farrow's face tensed every time he realized he needed more information. How he ran his hands through his hair from time to time, almost hurting himself. How he didn't seem to have enough time to review every single book. How he got annoyed by the fact that he couldn't find an answer that pleased him, and how he kept biting his lip and frowning as if the answer was in front of his eyes but he couldn't see it.

The man was going crazy.

"Stop," Ian told him when Farrow was about to use the ladder again to get a book off one of the highest shelves.

"Why?"

There was silence between them, but when Ian looked around, Farrow followed his gaze, his own eyes taking in the mess in the library. That's when he seemed to get the point and, discouraged, the archeologist sat on the ladder instead.

Getting worried about the situation, Ian reached for the book Farrow wanted and handed it to him. Farrow remained silent without opening it; he ran his hands over the cover, as if he was tired of looking for a solution he couldn't find.

"I could help."

Farrow laughed sadly. "Thanks, but I think I'm the only one who can take care of this. No offence."

"None taken," Ian answered, resting his back against the shelves. Archeology wasn't his field anyway, and he certainly wouldn't learn all about it in a couple of days. "I've been told that Professor Eppes had moments of deep concentration like these. He always got his answer, though. Apparently, there were times when he was working very hard and all he needed was a break to see the light."

"Well, I'm not Professor Eppes."

"No, you're not, but…" Ian folded his arms. "Isn't anything you can do to clear your mind?"

The question seemed to startle Farrow, and the book nearly slipped from his hands. His eyes were fixed on the floor as he said, "I… I don't know. I haven't done it in more than two years. I doubt it'd be useful..."

"Try it. Maybe that'll make your head work and you'll be able to figure out what the hell that cult wants from you."

He had an effect on the other man this time. It looked like Farrow was drowning himself in a memory, but he finally smiled, got off the ladder and started walking towards the door. On the way out, he left his book on one of the many desks.

"You know, you're not as scary as you try to look," he said as he left, mocking the sniper. "I'm sure that behind that stoic mask, you have a heart of gold."

_So we're back to the sarcasm. I can deal with that._ Still believing the other man would solve the case soon, Ian followed Farrow with a smirk on his face.

**XxX**

The sound of footsteps was the only noise in the calm night that surrounded Ian as he made his way to the stable behind his house. He could see the stars in the cloudless night; the moon stood above him, guiding his path with its light.

He'd seen the stable from the outside a couple of times that day, but hadn't really given it much thought. Farrow had told him he'd had horses in Arizona once. Of course, that was inviting memories to fill Ian's brain, memories of Marah and her wonderful animals and how she talked to them when she was happy, before going back into the house and drinking a nice glass of wine.

Being in a stable again for the first time in years made Ian realized that he'd been avoiding it on purpose. As soon as he entered the place, he felt the atmosphere getting into his veins.

A hallucination. A hint of the past. The smell. The ventilation. The soft lights. The neighs. The view.

His eyes couldn't take such beauty. He already knew what kind of horses he'd find, but they were so much more perfect when seen in person. Behind a fence, almost fifteen animals were sleeping or eating their hay.

"Do you recognize them?" Farrow said, as he called one of the stunning horses closer to him.

"I remember the pictures."

"This is a…"

"A black Friesian, I know. That's a Gypsy Vanner and that's an Arabian." Ian finished the sentence with as little emotion as usual. He folded his arms and walked towards another one of the animals.

"Wow, you do know," Farrow responded, caressing his horse's head. He looked a bit surprised. "And you do like them, after all."

Ian observed the Friesian's strong body like he was living out a fantasy. "Someone I knew used to have some of these, that's all." When the Friesian came to him without him calling it and lowered his head, the sniper instinctively ran a hand over its beautiful mane. "Hey, there… You're a good boy."

"With all due respect, Agent Edgerton, that doesn't look like 'all' to me. Only a true horse lover looks at them with such respect and admiration."

_Don't play the smart guy._ Ian glanced at Farrow and looked down. There was straw under his shoes; it was clean, just like it should be, and that triggered a question. "How do you take care of your horses? You said no one lived here most of the time so that no one knew this was your house."

Farrow smiled. "Um… I pay a woman who lives near this place for her to take care of them when I and the others are away. Let's just say she knows how to keep a secret."

"Aha. You and your money."

"Hey, I only use it for meaningful stuff. Besides, that woman loves spending time with them. It's a win-win situation."

"Mmm."

"So, do you miss the person who had horses like these?"

It sounded like Farrow wanted to get into a place he really shouldn't. Ian remained silent, not willing to give out any answers.

"I get that you want to keep your privacy, Agent. I feel the same way about my life," Farrow ended up saying, turning to the horse.

"That won't get you anywhere with me. I already told you." Farrow's sudden laugh started Ian. "What's so funny?"

"You always assume the worst of me. It's strangely stimulating as an intellectual challenge."

"Whatever suits you, as long as you see the light."

"To tell you the truth, I already feel better. Being in this place…," Farrow muttered, glancing around the stable. "It used to make me calm, but I never tried it anymore after…" He stopped without an apparent reason. "Anyway, the fact that I feel good here is kind of unexpected, considering the circumstances." Slowly, he caressed the neck of the bay Arabian. "She's beautiful, isn't she?"

Turning to the Friesian he was with, Ian stated, "Yeah. This one is a good guy, too. I bet all of them are, but this one… His eyes… he's different, I can tell..." There was something in that animal's eyes. The blackness of his body, the silkiness of his short hair, the way he looked into Ian's eyes and remained still. Maybe it was his power or his presence…

"Ride him."

The question came out of nowhere. "What? No. I won't ride your horse."

"Why not?"

_I just won't._ "Because."

Farrow raised his eyebrows. "That's not a good reason."

"It is to me. I don't have to give you any explanations."

"I can't figure you out."

"Same goes for you, 'Chris.'"

Farrow didn't answer right away. He kept taking care of his Arabian and talking to him, but then he muttered, "You're going to ride that gorgeous animal one day."

Ian snorted and laughed. He felt the urge to use his sarcasm, but he tried to control himself. "Oh, no. That's not going to happen."

"We'll see."

"Yes, we'll see."

"But when that happens, you will… Hmmm. Excuse me." A melody had come up and Farrow took out his cell phone. "Lilly… What? What do you mean, Richard's _gone_?"

"Holy…" Ian muttered as he made a call himself. When Don picked up, he added, "Hey, we have a missing person here."

"Damn it. Who is it?"

"One of Farrow's colleagues, Richard something. He was on the plane that crashed last night."

"Ah… Yeah, I've got the passenger list here. Richard Peyton. According to our sources, he's supposed to be at…" Don checked a list and gave the name of the hospital.

"We sent someone to check on him and it turned out he wasn't there." Ian heard Farrow saying that Richard might have been kidnapped and that he'd wait for a call. "He could have been taken out of the hospital against his will."

Don took a breath. "A kidnapping. I'm going to call the hospital, open a new investigation on that and link it to the data we have on the cult. It'd be good if you went there as soon as you can."

"We'll do. What about the CalSci shooter?"

"We're interviewing some possible eye witnesses today."

"Great. Stay in touch." When Ian hung up, he noticed Farrow had also finished his talk with Lillian and was looking at him expectantly. The sniper informed him, "We're going to that hospital. Now."

**XxX**

Sergio threw two bags in the trunk of the SUV and exclaimed, "I still don't get it! Someone put him on a trolley, rolled him out of the hospital and no one noticed? That looks too much like a Mission Impossible movie to me." His analogy made Ian laugh. It was funny that some of the things people could see in movies and considered improbable were actually pretty common for the FBI.

"Well, it could be. Who would have thought they'd crash my jet?" Farrow replied as he put another bag in the trunk. He noticed how Sergio scratched his head and stared at it in worry. "What is it?"

"Um… I don't know."

"C'mon. What are you thinking about?"

Looking nervous, Farrow's butler shook his head. "Nothing, I had this idea… about someone betraying us. Who knows if that cult has people inside."

That was actually an intelligent consideration. As Farrow discounted it, Ian thought that he had to keep his eyes open, just in case.

"Nah… We're all friends here and we trust each other, Sergio. Nothing bad will happen. I can tell."

"Okay, if you say so." Sergio didn't seem very convinced, but he came into the house to get the last things they needed to take to the hospital with them. "By the way, I made some of that drink you like so much. It's in the fridge, just in case."

"Thanks."

Ian got in the car, and Farrow followed. The sight of him carrying a briefcase, gave the sniper a bad memory about the shooting at CalSci. He cursed the fact that there had been no progress on that yet.

"What if Sergio's right? What if it's one of the bodyguards?" the archeologist suddenly wondered.

Ian put on his sunglasses. "It could be… or not." He watched how Farrow rubbed his palms together.

"Okay, yeah… I'm just…" He never finished the sentence. Silently, he looked out of the window as Ian turned on the engine and Sergio and a bodyguard took over the backseat. The rest of the team would stay at the house.

"See you later, guys." Sergio said. When Ian looked into the rear view mirror, he noticed that the man wasn't smiling; the bodyguards that were left behind were, though.

During the ride that followed, Ian thought it was going to be a very enjoyable one. There was peace and silence, Sergio and the bodyguard had fallen asleep; everything was so calm and different from the day before… He didn't need more dirty comments or more dust on his pants. After having a night of sleep taking away from him, he needed to relax…

"Bisexuality and homosexuality have been a part of human identity for thousands of years," Farrow stated suddenly, startling Ian and making him forget about his perfect ride. He was writing down fractions and Egyptian symbols in a little note book.

The car moved at the rhythm of the irregular ground, not as smoothly as it'd done it before. Ian's hands took a tighter grip on the steering wheel. "Are we starting a conversation?"

Farrow frowned. "Yeah, I believe we are."

"And you're talking about… sexual orientation."

"I'm nervous, okay? Besides, I'm an archeologist. I just know these things, I find them interesting. What am I supposed to talk about?"

"Right," Ian muttered, trying to relax. There was an unexpected moment of silence; for a second, he thought the speech was over. He was wrong.

"Even the gods had same-sex relationships. For example, Ancient Egypt mythology has several references and versions of stories that describe sexual intercourse between two endlessly powerful men."

Shaking his head, the sniper took a deep breath. _Here we go again._ "Okay."

"I could tell you what the tales about Horus and Set imply about them…"

_Oh, for God's sake._ "Thanks, but… I'll pass."

"Really? Because the lettuce with Horus' seed…"

"I can figure it out by myself."

"It was an aphrodisiac plant for Egyptians…"

"I don't need to know." _I don't want to know. How the hell am I supposed to see lettuce in a sandwich the same way after that story?_

"All right, all right. Would you feel more comfortable if we talked about which god was more likely to be a top or a bottom?"

_Stop it._ Ian hit the gas. "I would appreciate it if you'd drop the subject or just shut up."

"Fine, let's talk about something else. Something exciting. What about… _you_?" Farrow's eyes were on the sniper, and a wicked smile was dancing on his face.

Ian glanced at the man beside him. "Forget it."

"Why not? Look at the road ahead of us. It's going to take us at least forty minutes to get to the hospital."

"I said 'no.'"

"How did you become who you are today? How did you get to your current position?" There was no response. "Are you going to answer my questions?"

"No. I'm the one who has the cuffs and the gun, remember?" Ian muttered, feeling satisfied with his words. He turned to Farrow, who was frowning.

"Is that how you want to play?"

"I'm not playing."

"Okay, whatever you say. I'm not complaining anyway."

Ian took his eyes back to the road and then heard him saying, "I could be the one with the cuffs," but shook the idea out of his head because there it held an uncomfortable meaning.

"Like I said earlier, you're not as tough as you think."

"You don't know anything about me."

Smirking, Farrow caressed his chin. "After being surrounded by so many people who only care about money or prestige…"

"Or fame…"

"Yeah, fame's something I'm not proud of. But the point is, you learn how to recognize the good guys."

"And how to get shot at by a crazy cult."

The archeologist's laugh was little and low. "That was a good one, I have to admit. So there's a secret there, huh? A secret about your FBI story."

_You smart-ass._ "If there was any, I wouldn't tell you, so stop asking."

"… which means there _is _one."

"I don't get it. Just limit yourself to not die and solve that fractions problem. Why do you want to know about me?"

There was the sound of a deep breath. "Ah… curiosity. Nothing more, nothing less. You're a mysterious man, Agent Edgerton. Digging into that tough, hard cover of yours, seems to be the perfect job for someone like me."

"Well, take your damn tools away. You're not digging anything here." A second later, when he heard Farrow's laugh again, Ian realized what he'd said. _God._ Ideas started popping into his head, and he had to stop them before he got to the part of his mind where weird thoughts were kept. "It seems that I can join your friend Lillian and her anecdotal porn."

"Yeah, you could! It's what we do for fun anyway," Farrow said. The smile on his face refused to go away.

"Sex?" Ian snapped, out of curiosity.

The other man seemed to be surprised by the question. "No… Actually, I believe that is a much more common practice among humans, not archeologists in particular. I meant the dirty jokes. It lightens the mood when you know you'll be spending 72 hours or more digging into dry ground while being surrounded by people who are at least as crazy as you… and know how to use a sharp shovel."

That got Ian smirking. "I guess," he muttered, and a rusty building appeared not too far away, in the middle of the land. "It looks like there's a gas station there."

"Good. I need to stretch out."

Soon they were parking beside the station and trying to figure out if there was anyone there. Ian got out of the SUV and took the fueling nozzle to do the self-service. Then he walked in the station as if the place belonged to him; he'd been in that situation many times, in other cases he'd worked on. He didn't mind Farrow following him. Inside, there were some snacks machines and a mini-market section. There was also a man at the counter, snoring with a hat poorly placed on his head.

"Good morning," Ian said, ringing the little bell that was near the man, waking him up instantly. The hat almost fell to the floor, but the guy caught it just in time.

"Yeah, yeah. What can I do for you?"

"I had a refuel. Thirty gallons."

"Okay…" The man checked a list he had inside of a drawer and gave Ian the amount due. When he got the money, his thin lips tensed and he excused himself, "I'm sorry, my friend, but I've got no change. Why don't you take a nice magazine so we're even?"

Ian could see the change the guy had in a little table behind him, but he didn't protest. He just wanted to get out of there as soon as possible, so he turned to Farrow and found him already flipping the pages of a magazine. Once he was closer to him, he saw it was a publication about science and new discoveries; it reminded him that the blue-eyed man was a friend of Professor Fleinhardt. "Pick one and let's go," he said. But something caught his attention and he took a closer look at the magazines._ Is that…?_ One of them had a cover that made him frown in disbelief. Two guys were playing with each other, naked, in bed. After taking off his sunglasses, Ian noticed that there were a couple of sex toys around them. The title of the main article said, "The ten secrets of mind-blowing bi and gay sex of the ancient world, revealed," and the subtitle added, "Kama Sutra is not the only option."

"Told you so," Farrow said, smiling at him. He closed his scientific magazine and turned to the man behind the counter. "I'll take this one!" he yelled, and then left.

Ian glanced at the archeologist for a moment, but his gaze came back to the cover of the dirty magazine. He didn't really know what it was about the image of those two boys, but there was something dragging his eyes towards it, and for some reason, it seemed to be so forbidden that it was starting to look interesting.

Finally, he managed to tear his eyes away from the magazine, and he shook his head. _Mild curiosity. Damn Arizona, putting weird ideas into your head._ He was walking towards the door when he heard the owner of the gas station's voice again.

The man was approaching him, and Ian hated his weird grin as he got very close and muttered, "If you promise to come back, I can give you that magazine for you and your boyfriend for free."

Taking a deep breath, Ian put on his sunglasses again._ Great. The last thing I needed was someone thinking we're gay. _

"Is everything all right?" Farrow asked him. He was reading his magazine, leaning on the car.

Watching him, Ian noticed that he was everything but calm. Farrow's words and his body said something, but his trembling hands said otherwise. It didn't surprise him; one of his friends was missing. "Yeah, it's fine," he said. "Let's go."

Once they were inside the car, Farrow took a look at the backseat. "They're still asleep," he pointed out. He was right; Sergio and the bodyguard were snoring behind them.

The archeologist turned to look at the steering wheel. Ian sat silently for a moment, then said, "So it seems that bisexual and gay people have been having a lot fun these last centuries, after all." With that, he tried to lighten Farrow's mood. It'd be better for him and for everyone.

His comment had the expected effect on Farrow. He leaned back in the seat, caressing his lips with his hands and looking through the window. "Yeah… we have," he muttered, but then he went stiff and completely silent.

Ian looked ahead. The only sound coming from outside was the wind that slowly blew. _Okay. So that's what all those talks had to do with. _His fingers tapped the steering wheel until he took a deep breath and decided to turn on the engine. The SUV started moving and Ian realized that the conversation was over for the rest of the ride.

It was strange to know that the guy who sat beside him could be interested in men. That could be the key to solving the mystery of Louis Terrence's death. He and Farrow could have been lovers, and infidelity or vengeance could have been the motive for murder.

"Hey, what's going on?" Sergio asked as his languid hand reached for the front seat and he tried to look at the road ahead. "We're not there yet."

"No, we're not," Farrow said, not taking his eyes off the window. Ian preferred to keep his mouth closed.

Sergio rubbed his eyes and yawned. "You know, I had the strangest dream ever…" he babbled right before The SUV's trunk exploded and a mass of fire shot into the blackness of the night.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV


	20. Feeling the Heat

**Title:** "Feeling the Heat"

**Series: **_In the Arms of the Wicked_, Part 20/?

**Characters:**Ian/OMC, Don, Liz, Charlie/Colby, David, Megan, Larry, OCs.

**Rating:** M.

**Spoilers:** None.

**Warnings:** None.

**Summary:**The members of the team move to different locations to work on the case.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything except my OCs.

**Beta:** Thanks to my amazing LJ betas, fredbassett and twins_m0m.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

**In the Arms of the Wicked**

**Part 20****: "Feeling the Heat"**

The SUV was burning and the heat left very little air to breathe. In a reflex movement, Ian kicked his door, opening it instantly, and got out. He was numb and confused by the explosion and it was difficult for him to manage his movements. He shook his head violently and went back to the SUV. The back of the vehicle spat flames and everyone had to get away from it as soon as possible before the fire got to the tank and a bigger explosion occurred.

Looking inside the SUV, he saw Farrow kicking his own door. He clearly couldn't get it open, and Ian wanted to assist him, but the ones in the backseat needed more help.

Sergio was trying to drag out the bodyguard that lay beside him, but apparently, he was too heavy for him.

"Sergio!" Ian called.

Farrow kicked the door one more time and turned to the backseat. The flames were getting closer and closer to his friends; there was no time to waste.

Shaking his head one more time, Ian broke the glass of Sergio's window, reached for him and pulled him out of the SUV. Sergio fought against leaving the others behind, but he stopped once the sniper got him away from the vehicle and returned to try to rescue them.

Ian looked inside again and saw Farrow trying to make his bodyguard react, but he got the feeling that he wasn't going to get anywhere by himself.

"He's unconscious!" Farrow yelled.

In response, Ian tried to open the door; but he found it was stuck.

"I can't get this open! Push him towards me, I'll take it from there!" he yelled at Farrow, who quickly cursed as he tried to get the bodyguard closer to Ian. He was definitely using a lot of the energy he had left; his arms trembled and he was sweating heavily. But he did it. Soon, the unconscious man was near Ian's hands, so he could take him out of the vehicle. "Now _you_, get the hell out of there!"

He knew that Farrow would be able to get out; people with a character like his didn't give up easily. Once Ian saw Sergio walk desperately towards him, he allowed him to take care of the bodyguard. He looked back at Farrow trying to save his own life.

The fire was getting worse. Its light made the SUV seem more and more disturbing with each passing second. Farrow was hitting the glass of his door. However, he seemed too exhausted to escape the vehicle by his own means.

Thinking that he couldn't lose him, Ian started running, but he stopped in his tracks when he noticed that Farrow was sliding himself out through the window of the SUV, his briefcase in tow. He breathed hard and approached him, letting Farrow put an arm around his waist. They walked together towards Sergio, who was using CPR on the bodyguard.

The butler suddenly stopped and rolled on his side next to the man. "He's… He's dead. I'm sorry, Chris," he muttered, staring at the deceased man. "I'm so sorry…" he told the bodyguard, leaning over him and whispering prayers.

Farrow watched the scene in complete silence, with eyes full of regret. He never moved from beside Ian, but the sniper could feel how the grip on his waist got tighter and he could see little drops of sweat sliding down little portions of singed skin.

"What is this?" Farrow whispered. "What is this, and how can I stop it?" He was obviously talking to himself.

Ian looked at the people around him and glanced at the fire a few meters away. Fifteen minutes ago, he wouldn't have even imagined that someone would put a bomb in the SUV's trunk. He hadn't seen it coming, and now Farrow's face and words reminded him of himself several years ago, when he had witnessed Marah's death.

The crackling of the flames surrounded the tragedy for a moment. Farrow suddenly looked up, disturbed by another sound – the sound of a vehicle coming down the road. Ian could see the figure of a car that was going to pass near them, so he let go of Farrow and ran towards it. "Hey, FBI! Stop the car!" he yelled at the driver, taking out his badge and gun.

**XxX**

"Megan, are those kids going to get here or what?" Don asked the agent when he saw her walking near him. A second later, he realized that he'd chosen the wrong words to express himself, just like he'd done it before with Charlie. The last few days definitely hadn't been good ones when it came to his communication skills.

He felt even guiltier after he realized that she'd been walking around with a bunch of papers and pulling her hair the entire time. Megan wasn't okay and he'd noticed it hours ago. He'd even told her to go home, but after the news on Farrow's jet and Richard Peyton being missing, she'd had to come back to the office and keep doing her job. She always did her best, and it wasn't fair to treat her badly.

"I'm sorry, I'm worried about this. I didn't mean to say it like that…" Don apologized.

Megan looked at him with tense lips; then she put down the papers, took off her glasses and leaned on one desk. "I know, I know. We're all like that."

"You're doing a great job."

She smiled and looked behind Don. "There are your witnesses."

When he turned around, he saw two young men being accompanied by an FBI agent. They looked around like they were ashamed of something, until Don waved his hand and approached them. "Hey, guys… Why don't you come with me?" Silently, he guided the way to the interrogation room. Megan walked there with him, watching the witnesses tug at their sleeves and take deep breaths. "So, you are CalSci students and you were there when the shooting happened," he started, but his cell phone interrupted him. "Excuse me. I'll be with you in a minute," he said as he made a gesture for Megan to take care of them until he was back.

Once he'd put some distance between himself and the others, Don picked up the call. "Eppes." A familiar voice startled him. "Ian?" Something bad had to have happened for the sniper to call so soon.

"Don, we have a problem."

"What is it?" Don could hear the sound of people talking very near Ian's phone – people telling others to hold on. "Where are you?"

"In a car, on the way to the hospital."

Don's heart beat hard. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"A bomb happened. Someone put a small one in the trunk of Farrow's SUV," Ian responded. "Farrow, Sergio and I, we're fine, but a bodyguard didn't make it." He took a breath and lowered his voice. "It's got to be someone who's close to Farrow. It was the same SUV we used to get to the house from the airport, and we haven't been anywhere since then."

"Okay, okay…" Don tried to think fast. So many things were in his head at the moment – the jet, Carl, Cameron, Liz, Charlie, Ian, the bomb... "Look, two CalSci students are here. Apparently, they saw something during the shooting and they want to share it."

Ian's sarcastic voice didn't take him by surprise. "Well, finally someone's started talking."

Don ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah." He remained silent, trying to think straight again. "You know you gotta be extra careful, don't you?"

"It'll be fine. But I'm starting to see some things I don't like here."

"I'll take your word for that. I'm going to send David and Colby to Arizona so you to have backup in case you need it."

"Sounds good."

"All right. Bye." Overwhelmed by the situation, Don went to the war room, where Colby, David, Charlie and Larry were working on the equations and the video of the jet crash. One of their closest techs, Matt Li, was with them, enhancing the tapes.

They all looked at Don when he entered the office, but Charlie seemed to be still mad at him.

"What's up?" David asked.

"A bomb exploded in Ian and Farrow's SUV." Larry's expression said it all; he brought his hands to his face and became suddenly pale. "A bodyguard got killed, but the rest of them are okay."

The physicist uncovered his face, revealing relief. "Oh, thank you. I'm not experiencing any joy about the death of that man, but I'm certainly glad Ian and Christopher survived," he muttered. Charlie put a hand on his shoulder.

Don watched that hand and missed talking to his brother like civilized people, with no lies and no worries. "They have someone inside, very close to Farrow. We don't know who it is yet." With that, Larry definitely looked worried again. "We're going to make sure that person doesn't get to him. That's why I want David and Colby to go to Arizona and stay there. If anything happens, Ian will contact you."

Charlie looked at Colby, who glanced at him and said, "Okay." David nodded and soon the two partners and their boss were out of the room.

"We'll be ready in ten," David informed Don as he and Colby went to the gun locker room.

Don only got the chance to give them a thumbs up. His head was a mess, and the idea of Noah Cameron listening to Charlie and Colby's tapes obsessed him again. Of course, now he had an extra thing to worry about – Liz's curiosity certainly wasn't going to let this go.

When Don returned to the interrogation room, Liz was there. She fixed her eyes on his, but he had to do something before talking to the CalSci students. He asked Megan to come out, then told her, "Megan, I'd like you to go to Farrow's L.A. house, the one Ian visited a few days ago. I get the feeling we could find some interesting stuff about the guy's social circle there. Liz and I can take over the students' interrogation."

She nodded immediately, always ready to do her job even if she was feeling bad. She was about to leave when Charlie and Larry approached her and Don. "Hey, I'm going to Farrow's house…" she explained.

"The one in L.A.?" the physicist asked. "May I join you? I believe that being surrounded by an archeological atmosphere would very much collaborate to my thought process on the Horus-eye."

"Sure, go…" Don muttered, and then he looked at his brother. "Maybe you should go, too, Charlie. You see things others don't most of the time." He tried to be gentle, but Charlie didn't react and just left. The worst part was that Don wasn't expecting the scene to be any different.

So, tired and worried, he entered the interrogation room again and glanced at Liz. He knew she'd understood his message. There was a case to solve before they discussed any other issue.

**XxX**

Colby watched David finish loading his gun. Again, he was going to be apart from his lover, and he didn't know for how long it would be. The case wasn't progressing, it thickened and thickened, and there were almost no strong leads…

"Are you all right, man?" David asked, startling him. "You're staring at me and I know that look on your face."

It was nice to have someone to talk about such things, someone who could sense when Colby was feeling low. "I don't know. I guess I just want this case to be over so that I can finally focus on fixing what I have with Charlie."

David's smile comforted him; obviously, he was happy that Colby had followed the advice he'd given him for days now. "That's awesome."

"We'll see what happens," Colby responded. "So, it seems that you're feeling better about… you know, things?"

Taking an extra gun from the locker, the other man smiled again. "A bit, yeah. I'm trying to take it easy."

"Good…" There was a question Colby needed to ask after the conversation he'd had with everyone at the house. He remembered the lilies topic very well. "Does it have something to do with Liz?"

The only response he got was, "Maybe. She's been a good friend to me lately."

"A friend." When David turned to him and shook his head, Colby thought that maybe this wasn't the best moment to try to get a confession from his partner. "All right, I believe you. She's a nice girl. She'll be good for you."

"Colby."

"Okay, I'm not saying another word. My lips are sealed." Colby laughed for a second until he saw Charlie coming into the room. "Charlie, what's going on?"

Looking nervous, the mathematician stood in the middle of the room. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

David looked at them and started walking towards the door. "Um, you two talk, I have to… you know… do something I should have… done before…" he babbled before leaving the lovers alone.

Charlie stared at the door. "Well, that was subtle."

"Yeah," Colby agreed. "What did you want to talk about?" He waited for his lover to look into his eyes and say something, but Charlie remained silent. "Okay, what is it? You're scaring me. I…" He suddenly received a warm kiss and responded to it. He wasn't going to complain. They hadn't kissed each other very often since they'd got together again. However, when it was over, he didn't know what to say.

"You're going to Arizona," the mathematician whispered close to his mouth.

"I know." So they were thinking about the same thing. Just the idea of it made Colby think of how much he cared about his lover.

Caressing the agent's hair, Charlie rested his forehead on his. "I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you, too," Colby whispered back. "I'll call you."

"If you don't, I'll call you."

"Deal."

Charlie kissed his lover's lips again and with that, he turned around and left. Once he was alone, Colby wondered if the distance could actually erase what they felt about each other. So far, they seemed to be able to overcome it all somehow, but he could never be too sure.

**XxX**

_That subtle vibe you're sending me is useless, Don. Yeah, there's a case and we have to work on it. But that doesn't mean I've been suddenly brain-washed. _Trying to keep up, Liz walked around the interrogation room, making her presence felt. She had questions and she was going to get answers. These CalSci students seated at the table had come to talk about what they'd seen, after all. "Sean and Tom… You guys said you had something for us," she said, glancing at Don, who was in front of them, with his arms folded. "I wonder why you didn't come here sooner."

The two young witnesses looked at each other and Don added, "What did you see?"

"We… We were being… careful," the guy named Sean explained, but Liz didn't think it was very clear.

"You mean scared, don't you?"

The student swallowed. "Yes. Tom and I were talking at the campus when we saw a man hiding behind one of the university buildings. It was weird. He was wearing a hooded t-shirt. We followed his moves, trying not to catch his attention."

"And he turned out to have a gun," Don assumed, as he sat on the table, closer to the boy who hadn't talked yet and looking into his eyes. With that, he got him to raise his voice for the first time.

"When we saw it, we tried to warn the people around us, but it was too late. The shooting started and we got down on the floor… There were too many bullets, so we thought there were more men like the guy we saw…" Tom explained.

Liz went to the point. "What can you tell us about him? Height, clothes, some body feature that can help us identify him?"

Like they had done it before, both students shared a look and the one who had spoken first took out his cell phone. "We have a picture of him."

Don's eyes lightened and he reached for the little device. When Liz stood beside him and saw the picture, she muttered, "We're gonna need to enhance that." The image wasn't very good, but if the techs got their hands on it, they'd be able to find out a lot of relevant details.

"He saw us," Sean continued. "He caught me taking the picture when he was leaving and came towards me. I panicked but I recovered and sent it to Tom. I'm glad I did, because the man grabbed my cell phone threw it against the wall. Then he left."

"Did he say anything?" Don asked.

"No… He put the barrel to my head and played with the trigger, but obviously he didn't shoot me. He didn't tell me keep my mouth shut, but I think he was pretty clear about it."

"Did you notice it he had a target?"

"Not really… The shooting seemed to be random.

Tom nodded. "We waited until it was safe for us to get up again. Since then, we've been thinking about what happened. Yesterday we talked about it and we decided to come and tell you."

"No matter how scared we are… there are things that have to be done. If this is going to help someone else not to get hurt, so be it."

Liz watched Don frown and run his fingers over the keys of the cell phone. "That was a very good decision," she told the witnesses, first watching Don, then turning to the students to give them a polite smile.

"Yeah, thanks for everything. This is very helpful, guys," Don added, getting up and shaking the students' hands. Liz did the same and soon they were both out of the interrogation room.

They found out that McGowan had been monitoring the entire conversation. "I've heard that Sinclair and Granger are going to Arizona. I'll take care of jurisdiction matters," he said, and his eyes landed on Don. "Good job. Work on that picture." Then he left.

As Don and Liz walked down the corridor, his expression kept her attention. He didn't say another word until he saw the tech Matt Li and handed him the cell phone. "This image here, we need to take a better look at it. We gotta get an ID from it."

"All right, I'll take care of it," Li said before leaving to do his job.

Don turned to Liz. "We're closer to the bottom of this. I can tell."

"So what's the plan? What do we do next? We wait? What…?"

"We should make sure David and Colby get to Arizona ASAP, keep a track on Ian and Farrow's situation and wait for Charlie, Larry and Megan to pick up a lead in his house. In the meantime… I need to do something."

_Now?_ "Something? Don, if you're going to…"

"It won't take long. I'll be here in less than two hours. Li won't have that picture done before that."

"But…"

"I'll be back soon…"

"Don!"

"Keep me updated on what happens here!" Don yelled as he went towards the elevator.

Astonished by his attitude, Liz went into the other elevator and followed Don to the FBI building's front door. There, he saw him get in his car, and she couldn't help worrying even more about him. _You want to go on with the case and then you leave like this? What are you thinking about, leaving like that for an unknown location?_

When Don's car started to move, she got into her car, hit the gas and told herself she'd hammer some sense into his head before it was too late.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV


	21. Playing with Fire

**Title:** "Playing with Fire"

**Series: **_In the Arms of the Wicked_, Part 21/?

**Characters:**Don, Liz, OMC, mention of Charlie/Colby.

**Rating:** M.

**Spoilers:** None.

**Warnings:** Mention of rape.

**Summary:**Don catches a ghost.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything except my OCs.

**Beta:** Thanks to my amazing LJ beta twins_m0m.

**A/N:** Lily G, this is for you because you're writing and you're doing it so well!

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

**In the Arms of the Wicked**

**Part 21****: "Playing with Fire"**

_No matter how scared we are… there are things that have to be done. If this is going to help someone else not to get hurt, __so be it._

Don was driving, and he knew the interrogation was over, but he couldn't get that student's words out of his head. He had to do it, he had to get in touch with Noah Cameron, talk to him… If no one could get him a meeting with the man, he'd do it himself. The ghost wasn't so unreachable right now. There was enough data to find him.

_There are things that need to be done, and one of them is this._ Repeating the phrase to himself over and over again, Don glanced at the rear view mirror. Someone was following him. "Liz?" _Not now…_

He had to pull over. As he waited for her, he tried to figure out what he was going to say. She'd seen too much. When Liz's car parked behind him, he rolled down the window and took a breath. Her hand was soon beside his door, and she was leaning in to see his face.

"What are you doing here?" he snapped.

"Where the hell are you going, Don?"

"That's none of your business."

"Yes, it is," Liz stated. "I find you at Carl's office, sniffing around, looking for God knows what. That's dangerous, and I want to know if my boss and the person who taught me how to be an FBI agent is about to ruin his entire career."

"That's not going to happen!" Don yelled back. _But it could._ He decided that he'd rather have this conversation outside the car, so he got out. "I'm doing what it takes for everyone's lives to be the way they used to_!" I shouldn't yell. No, this is ridiculous, I…_ Don leaned back on the vehicle, caressing his chin. He didn't want to get into a fight. It wasn't the right time.

But she insisted. "I'm not asking you this just because. I'm worried about you."

"You should take care of yourself. You got back home only yesterday."

"We're not talking about me here."

_Yeah, well…_ Stressed out, Don licked his lips and tried to hold himself together. He continued listening.

"Where are you going? Why were you at Carl's computer?" she said. "And why did you call your second cell phone?"

_Okay, what?_ He turned to her, disappointed. "You checked my calls?" Liz simply folded her arms in a sign of impatience. From the way she was looking into his eyes, he could tell that she'd notice every single lie.

"Don, you can trust me."

It was hard to know that she was right and yet keep such a secret from her. _I can't tell you. I can't, but…_ "I can't let those tapes come out." He really didn't want to say it, but he did it anyway; and when the moment of truth was gone, he felt at peace with himself. The secret wasn't only his anymore. It was a relief, in a way.

"The India case tapes?" Liz asked, frowning.

"Yeah, I mean…"

"You know that David needs counseling but he refuses to allow Megan to talk to him."

Don didn't answer. Again, she was right.

"You also know that no one's going to lose their jobs because of being gay, much less for being abused." Liz was pointing out something that was very true and that Don was aware of.

_You don't understand._ "Of course I know that. But what about rejection from other agents?" he responded, turning to her. "Liz, you and I both know that it's not going to be all happy and easy for Charlie and Colby. People are going to talk. Jeez, magazines are going to take care of telling the world the news about Charlie. He couldn't take it."

"He couldn't take it… and neither could you. Because you hate to see him suffer."

She had pretty much nailed it. "Me, Charlie, my dad. No one could face it." The sound of the city got to Don's ears, reminding him of where they were. He was face to face with Liz, someone who knew him very well, in the middle of L.A., and he was on his way to Cameron's location. "I want my brother to be happy. He deserves that much."

"He didn't look very pleased a while ago. What happened between you guys?"

"What happened? I tried to say something and it all came wrong, that's what happened."

This time, it was Liz the one who leaned on the car, right beside Don. "I see."

"I don't want him to be like me. I want him to keep that special someone he has. The last thing I want is people to get between them."

"Maybe they're stronger that that."

The idea penetrated Don's ears and hit his brain and his heart. Suddenly, he could see flashes of the way his brother looked into Colby's eyes, how he'd stood up to the entire family to claim his love for him. It was good for Don to remember how Colby reciprocated and how he'd supported and waited for Charlie to make his decision.

But then again, there was Carl, and of course, there was Cameron. "I don't want to take any chances. The more I can protect them, the better," he explained, and he turned to Liz. "I'm going to see Noah Cameron. He's got the tapes."

"I remember David naming him… He's huge…"

"A ghost I'm trying to catch. I just need to talk to him."

"But… You're playing with fire, not to mention that you're…" Liz was going to start an argument, yet she stopped for a moment and leaned closer to Don, putting her hands in her pockets. "Let's assume for a moment that you stop the tapes from coming out. Would that be for the best? Wouldn't it be better if David was forced to get help? Wouldn't it be good for Charlie and Colby to enjoy what they have without having to hide it?"

All of those were good questions, but Don wasn't convinced. "I don't know, Liz. I don't know." He knew what he'd be willing to do for his brother. "If something goes wrong, I'll take the hit, all right? It's just… I gotta do this. I care about David and Colby, but I won't see Charlie deal with all that crap. I just won't."

Liz only stared at him and folded her arms. She was quiet, like she understood what was going on in Don's heart. She didn't present more arguments against his plans. She stood by his car as he got in, and once he turned on the engine, she leaned on the open window. "Take care… and be careful."

Don nodded and put on his sunglasses; a few seconds later, he was driving again, leaving Liz behind. He looked at the rearview mirror - the soft wind was brushing her hair and moving a few strays across her worried face.

He'd be okay. He could handle this.

It took him about twenty minutes to get to his destination. On the way there, he felt much better than when he'd left the FBI. Knowing that Liz understood him and had his back soothed him and allowed him to go on with less weight on his shoulders.

It was weird that Cameron was staying in L.A. People who'd gone into Protective Custody usually moved at least to a different city. However, the neighborhood seemed nice and peaceful – not many cars passed by, there were people walking down the street and some children playing together in a corner.

As usual, Cameron's house was designed not to be especially noticed. The structure was too standard, so some decorations had been added as to point out that there was an actual human being living there – someone with particular preferences. Whoever it was, it'd pass as a regular citizen who didn't have any connections to neither illegal activities or the State.

Checking out the entrance, Don knew that people would be waiting for him, and that they'd be ready to catch him. In order to avoid negative assumptions, he decided to leave his gun in the car.

Breathing hard, he approached the front door, kept his sunglasses in his pocket and reached for the bell. It rang one time, but nothing happened. Looking for another entry would look suspicious; again, Don rang the bell and waited. He tapped his hips with his fingertips when he didn't hear any noises.

The door suddenly opened, and he was dragged inside. Then the barrels of several guns were put against his arms, chest and head. Don was expecting agents to be around, but not this many. At this moment, four of them were on him. Two more grabbed his badge and cell phone; they even took his car keys and his wallet from him.

"Hey, I just need to talk to Noah Cameron…" Don couldn't see much from his angle but he could hear one of the agents who had taken his stuff saying, "Sir, he's FBI," and another male voice responding, "Mhmm… Let's see what he has to say."

In a second, Don was free. One of the agents grabbed a chair from a corner and brought it to Don, who sat down. Two men held his shoulders, holding him back and away from someone whose back was to him, talking over the phone. That had to be Cameron, as the rest of the agents were almost forming a circle around him. Don thought it'd be better to let him talk first and try to check out the territory before he screwed up.

"Aha," Cameron was saying. "Okay, I need you to stick to standard procedures this time. No, I know that. But I want that ID ASAP, so don't let me down."

The next thing Don knew, the chair was turning around, and he could see Noah Cameron's face for the first time. In a way, he reminded him of Ian – dark-haired, strong, tall, well built body. But even if there was a certain resemblance, he was different. It wasn't his cheap, casual clothes or his goatee; it was his eyes. They showed more confidence than regrets, and with that in mind, Don didn't know how to begin.

"Agent Donald Eppes," Cameron said, with a tone of voice that revealed a position of power but also a sense of responsibility.

"Sir," Don responded, looking at the agents that surrounded the room, ready to assault him if he even tried to get near Cameron. He watched the EAD get up, walk in front of his desk and lean on it before questions started.

"I'm gonna go for the obvious question first so we take it out of the way and move on. How did you find this location?"

"I… I wanted to talk to you." It was better to move fast and not give too much data, no matter what happened.

Cameron's eyes were fixed on Don's for a moment. But then he continued, like the answer wasn't that important. "I can see that. No one would have broken into his place and risked himself to be considered as a perpetrator just to tell me to have a nice day." As everyone remained silent, he drank some water from a little bottle that lay on his desk, and then said, "This is about the case involving your brother and one of your agents having an affair, not to mention another one who's been raped by someone close to your family."

_Holy…_ Don's breath got caught in his throat. He changed his position on his chair, trying to keep up with the facts – everybody in the room already knew about Charlie, Colby, David and Amita. _This is… I can't believe it._

"Yes, I've already listened to them," Cameron concluded, fixing his eyes on Don's.

_Think, Don. Think._ "Sir, I know what you must be thinking…"

"You do?"

"My brother… He's a valuable asset, not only for the FBI but also other U.S. federal agencies…"

"And also someone who's made mathematics the basis of very complex operations. Please, get to the point."

Starting to sweat, Don tried to choose the right words. "The tapes can't come out. I know that it's relevant to the Bureau to see these kind of cases, but he and the others have lives, and…"

"Getting some counseling or getting involved in a relationship doesn't mean they'll lose their jobs, no matter what the sexual orientation. You should know that already."

"I do, I do… but this is about the other people. Rumors and bad comments will cause the team and the work atmosphere to significantly change, and that could cause my unit to lower its efficiency. Besides…"

"Welcome to society, Eppes," Cameron interrupted him, opening his arms. He didn't seem to be mooching Don, but giving him a sudden shot of reality. "People will always talk. About everything. You just gotta pick your poison."

"Yes, but this is different. This is…"

"Personal? Because of course it is. These are your agents, your family, your friends, and I can take that into consideration but rules are rules and if those tapes have to come out, they will."

Don was waiting for this kind of outcome – it was one of possibilities – but the way Cameron said it added some bad feeling to the situation. "Okay… Okay. Would you mind if I'd ask you why you went into Protective Custody?"

The issue didn't seem to surprise Cameron. He took a deep breath and went to sit at his desk. There, he rubbed his palms and took his time to respond. "My father…"

Before he could continue speaking, another agent made a step forward. "Sir, are you sure you want to share such information with the intruder?"

"Yes. Agent Edgerton trusts him," Cameron informed him.

The fact that he'd named Ian startled Don. It was very strange for him to talk about the man. However, on a second thought, Ian was one of the best snipers in the country and he was known as someone with great intuition in pointing out friends and enemies.

Now Cameron was looking at Don again. "My father was AD Bill Cameron."

_Oh, crap. So that's what this is all about._ "Right, in late 2007 he was killed in his office…"

"… by one of our own. I have to admit that it was quite a deception, at least to me. I trusted our forces that much." The man who had the India case tapes leaned on his desks. "Since then, I've become a lot more careful. I don't like taking any chances. Especially when the person who killed my father is still a fugitive that's been threatening me as well."

Things were starting to make sense, except for one. "Then, with all due respect, sir… why are you still here, in L.A.? Why didn't you ask to be relocated?"

"I don't run from my responsibilities. Being near and available for decision making is my job. That's all you have to know."

Breathing hard, Don tried to keep himself from asking anymore questions. Cameron obviously wasn't in the mood to respond to them.

"But let's go back to the tapes… Honestly, judging from what those tapes contain, it seems that the FBI is ready to show that everything's possible." Cameron got up from his chair and walked around the room. "The stories found there turned out to be very interesting. I never expected someone like your brother - a respected, talented mathematician - to engage himself in a romantic, sexual relationship with an ex-military."

"_Sexual?_ How can you know that?" _C'mon, no._

"How? If we didn't have enough with tapes, we checked Miss Ramanujan's bag and, among her belongings, we found a DVD of Dr. Eppes and Agent Granger in a garage, in the middle of a very… compromising situation. Then we checked her house and found copies of that same video sequence."

Knowing that Charlie was with Colby was one thing, but imagining them having sex was completely different. Don shook the idea out of his head and looked around at the agents who were stoically keeping an eye on his movements. He'd never thought about Charlie taking such step so fast, considering that Colby was the first man he'd ever confessed to care for.

Cameron was talking again. "I think we're done here." He turned to his agents. "You can show Agent Eppes the way out."

Strong hands immediately tightened on Don's shoulders as other agents closed the gap between him and Cameron. Finally, Don could only see part of Cameron's head behind them. When the men returned his belongings to him, he realized that it was his cue to leave.

He looked at the path the agents were silently asking him to follow. It was the way to the front door again, and Don started walking towards it. Soon he was outside, and the door had been closed behind him. The street was almost empty; cars passed by sporadically, and the group of kids kept playing in the same corner he'd seen before.

Don had found out so much about Cameron and about the possible future that waited for Charlie, Colby and David. He hadn't asked about Christopher Farrow and his connection with the FBI, but maybe that had been a smart decision.

He was wondering if he'd done the best he could when his cell phone vibrated inside his pocket. Megan was the one calling. "Hey, is everything okay? Are you at Farrow's house?" Don asked.

"Yes. Charlie, Larry and I are here. But I've been calling for a while now, and your cell phone was turned off…" she sighed, obviously worried. "Don, you're not going to like this… at all."

**XxX**


	22. Related versus Unrelated

**Title:** "Related versus Unrelated"

**Series:** _In the Arms of the Wicked_, Part 22/?

**Characters:** Megan/Larry, Charlie, Liz, Don.

**Rating:** PG-13.

**Spoilers:** None.

**Warnings:** None.

**Summary:** A discovery is waiting for Megan, Charlie and Larry at Dr. Farrow's house.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything (characters, situations, etcetera) except my OCs.

**Beta:** The fantastic twins_m0m.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

**In the Arms of the Wicked**

**Part 22****: "Related versus Unrelated"**

As if taking their first look at Farrow's residence wasn't enough, Megan, Charlie and Larry stood in front of it with eyes full of surprise. This didn't seem like the kind of place a man like him would live in.

"Wow… I wasn't expecting this," Charlie muttered.

Looking around, Megan noticed the beautiful tree with blooming white flowers. It was perfect, almost like a fairy tale. "I was," she admitted. "He's a wealthy, well-known character, and he's trying to find a quiet place to live without anyone bothering him."

"Yeah, but… I'm all that and I don't hide like this."

"Well… You and he are different, Charlie."

"I guess we are."

Before Megan could say anything else, Larry took the lead to the house. With a worried look, he grabbed some of the books he'd insisted on bringing, exitied the car, and started walking towards the door. He limped and had trouble getting there, but he finally did. Watching him was sad for Megan, who could see all the effort he was putting into the investigation. Dr. Farrow was a mystery but he was also his friend.

"Let's take care of the rest for him," she said, taking some of the books. Agreeing, Charlie took the others and they both followed Larry to the door. Once they were there, Megan put the titles on the ground and took out her gun. "All right, guys. I'm going in. Step back, just in case."

She kicked down the door and got in, holding her gun; Charlie and Larry stood behind her, letting her do her job. Everything inside the house seemed to be in place; decorations were in one piece, the horse paintings were straight… but when Megan got to what seemed to be Farrow's room, something caught her eye.

_Oh, no._ There was the head of a man coming out from behind the bed. Holding her breath, she got closer to it and discovered that it was still attached to a body. This person had been tied to a chair and the chair had been kicked down… probably before he died. His mouth and his eyes were open in a shock expression. Walking around, Megan could see blood on the man's face and clothes – signs of a horrible torture.

Absorbed by the image in front of her, she hadn't called Charlie and Larry. But when she heard footsteps behind her and turned around, there they were, staring at the body she'd found. Charlie was in shock, breathing hard, but Larry was a lot more affected by the discovery.

"Larry…" Megan called, trying to figure out what was going on.

He just turned around and covered his face. "Oh, my God… Oh, my God."

"What is this cult going to do next, huh?" Charlie snapped. Megan's attention was still on her lover. She went to Larry and gently put a hand on his shoulder.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

Larry folded his arms, not wanting to look at the corpse. "That man… He's the missing person. Richard Peyton."

"What?" Astonished, Megan looked at the dead man. "He's the man who disappeared from the hospital?" Consternated, she took out her cell phone and called Don. No response, the call just went to voice mail.

"What is it?" Charlie wanted to know.

_This has to be joke. Don, where are you?_ "Your brother's not answering his phone."

"What?"

"I'll try again later," Megan muttered, trying to calm herself and Charlie down, but thinking that Don had better pick up her call as soon as possible. Deciding not to waste time, she dialed a second number. "Liz? We've got something… Richard Peyton. He's dead. No, that's okay, you should stay and wait for that picture. We gotta get that shooter no matter what. Could you send me a Crime Scene unit?"

Within an hour, techs were analyzing the house and the body of Dr. Richard Peyton. Megan had been updated with every bit of new data and she kept going from corner to corner, walking from room to room, and encouraging everyone to find out what the hell had killed the man. The blood that covered several parts of his body could not be enough to cause his decease.

From time to time, she called Don, there was no answer. When she dialed his number for the hundredth time, she finally got to talk to her boss.

"Hey, is everything okay? Are you at Farrow's house?" Don's voice said.

Megan took a breath and felt the satisfaction of having him on the other side of the line. "Yes. Charlie, Larry and I are here. But I've been calling for a while now, and your cell phone was turned off… Don, you're not going to like this… at all."

"Damn… Who died?"

"Richard Peyton."

"Oh…"

Hearing Don breathe hard, she tried to explain the situation. "I called Liz, she sent the techs in. They say that the bruises on Peyton's body were done with a whip. They also say that he spit something out of his mouth. We don't know what it is yet. The techs are taking samples to the lab." As she watched the techs work, Megan made a signal for them to hurry with the analysis.

"Jeez… This is very personal, just like it is with Farrow…"

"Definitely. Plus, there's this extra component, a blend of rage and calculated, controlled killing methods. Whoever did this is not an amateur, and, as we're talking about a cult, it gets worse. It means we have a group of people dedicating themselves to murder for the sake of defending their beliefs."

"All right. How are Charlie and Larry?"

_Well…_ Megan put a hand on her hip and walked towards the front door. She watched Charlie and Larry in her car, talking and flipping the pages of the books the physicist had brought. They had decided to return them to the vehicle and work there. "They're trying to solve the case. Larry… he didn't take Peyton's death very well. Apparently, they'd shared some investigation projects."

Don's response came a little late. "I'm sorry…"

She took a breath. "Yeah… Me, too. Okay, I gotta go. I'll keep you posted."

"Thanks, Megan."

Noticing that Charlie and Larry's talk seemed to have become some kind of discussion, she decided that it was better for her to be with them. She approached the car and realized that they were definitely arguing; but as soon as she got close enough to hear them, they both shut up. They looked frustrated, and she had to admit that it didn't surprise her. A case like this – one that dealt with personal matters as well as criminal cases from the past – wasn't easy for anyone.

"Is everything okay?" she asked, trying to sound natural so they'd relax from the abrupt interruption. She leaned on one of the open car doors.

From his seat, Larry didn't take his eyes off his book as he talked. "My mind is not working. I can't stop thinking… It's such a shame that Christopher is being forced to deal with this situation…"

"He still could become a suspect," Charlie muttered, as if that wasn't something he was supposed to say.

The comment seemed to upset Larry, as he put his book down and looked into his friend's eyes like he'd been offended. "I respectfully disagree," he informed. "I'm the one who's known him for years. I know who he is under those heterodox ways he has. Why is it that you, Don and McGowan persist on making him appear as guilty?"

As strange as it was for him to be mad at Charlie, the mathematician answered, "Larry, you've got to admit that he holds a dirty background. This is not the first murder he's been involved with."

Larry shook his head violently. "I've never believed that he had any participation on Louis Terrence's tragic death."

"He could have anyway, no matter what the investigation results were. It wouldn't be the first time we've see that happen…" Fixing his eyes on the physicist, Charlie didn't finish his point. "Okay… I'm sorry, but I don't know him, so I gotta stick to the actual evidence." As Larry didn't respond, he continued, "Did you know he was working for the Egyptian government?" Again, there was silence. "I'll take that as a 'no.'"

"This doesn't make any sense," Larry stated, getting out of the car. Megan and Charlie followed him towards the house, but he suddenly turned around and started a speech. "Christopher does not have the obligation to share every project or plan he decides to take participation in. He's free to work on any of them, regardless of their condition as public or secret. As far as I know, he hasn't broken any structures or rules while pursuing the truth, which sometimes happens to involve justice being done."

Megan was always surprised to see Larry defending Dr. Farrow with such passion. He wasn't like that, or at least he didn't show that side of his personality very often. By her side, Charlie stared at him and moved his lips like he wanted to say something, but nothing came out of his mouth.

Visibly upset, the physicist concluded, "If people would ever doubt of you the way you doubt about Christopher, I would never stop believing in you, Charles. Never. And that's not all – I'd fight and prove that you're innocent."

Charlie remained in silence for a moment. Then, he walked towards Larry and stood very close to him. "Then do that for Dr. Farrow. Prove to us all that he's not the kind of person we think he is."

Immediately, Larry's face turned into a sad expression. He definitely regretted having gotten into a fight with Charlie, and he was trying to apologize. "I will. This murderer is going to be persecuted, found and given the punishment he deserves." He didn't return to the car. He continued his way to the house, and once inside, he guided the way to one of the several rooms the techs were working on. He looked around and said, "Something here has to give us at least a little quantum of detail."

Behind him, Charlie glanced at Megan. "Okay… Let's revisit what we have so far. We have seven events. First, the location and the method involving the Egyptian items. Second, the Horus-eye fractions. Third, the CalSci shooting. Fourth, the buried object in Arizona and the coded message Farrow gave to the owner of the house where the last pieces of art were found. I think I have a new algorithm that could break that code."

Thinking deeply about the connections that could exist between those issues, Megan nodded. "Great… What else?"

"We also have the jet explosion, that I'd like to work on separately from the car bomb. And finally, there's the discovery of Peyton's body here…"

Sadly, Larry shook his head. Megan could almost feel his sorrow in her soul. "According to what we already know, the cult is taking revenge on Farrow for trying to locate them and working with the FBI. He was located at a murder scene that happened two years ago, and he has enough connections to the robberies at the Cairo Museum, even if he's helping them out with the thieves."

"Megan…" Larry muttered.

She lifted her hand. "I'm just telling the facts. I'm not making any judgments. But the way I see it," Megan explained, "This is too personal. I don't think the cult would dedicate itself to persecute Farrow just because of what I said before. It feels that there is a much deeper reason… Whatever that is." She wanted to tell Larry to be ready for any kind of answer about Farrow's past, but she couldn't. She didn't want to upset him; he had enough for now. "Charlie, do you see any connections between the facts you listed? Isn't there some equation you can use to link them?"

Charlie's lips tensed. "I've tried when Larry and I were in the car… I got nothing. But like Larry says, there has to be something that ties them all together…"

Suddenly, Larry interrupted him. "Not necessarily," he stated. "What if the related versus unrelated dichotomy doesn't apply here? What if each one of these facts isn't link to all the others but only to some of them?"

"A broken connection of commonalities. Facts represent causes and consequences that hold a certain order." At this point, Charlie's eyes had gone wide, and Megan supposed he was having one of his oh so helpful epiphanies.

"Exactly."

"Great! That's something we can start from… I'll get my laptop…"

As Charlie went to get what he needed to relate the right facts, Megan let her hand rest on Larry's arm. "That was a very good idea, Larry…" She was hoping for him to feel better now somehow.

He joined his palms, as if he was going to ask her for something. "I think this is the moment we're going to start getting real and definite answers. But in order for us to collect more data, I'm going to ask you to contribute with your expertise." He pointed at a corner of the room where several objects taken from the house were isolate and packaged for proper analysis. "Maybe you'll be able to provide us a psychological profile from Christopher that can allow us to discard him as a suspect.

The solemn way he expressed his request made Megan smile. He never ceased to trust his friend. "Of course…" She immediately started analyzing the things that were in the room, looking for clues that could indicate any extra link Farrow could have to the cult.

Soon Charlie entered the room, looking excited. "Okay… Let's do this," he said as he sat down on the floor, opened his laptop and rubbed his palms.

During the next half an hour, Megan spent her time organizing and pulling out meanings from the objects around the house. She had taken some of them with her, with permission of the techs, as they held very interesting possibilities. Carrying them, she went back to the room where Larry and Charlie were. She listened to them talking the way they always used to – sharing ideas, discussing probabilities. Their little fight seemed to be in the past.

"Hey, guys. Listen, I've found some things that are going to help us…" she started, as she sat down on the floor beside them, but her cell phone distracted her. "Reeves."

"Megan, I'm going to get the results on the enhanced photo in a few minutes. I'm gonna call Ian and Farrow so all of us can share everything we have. Something has to come out of it."

"Okay, I'll put you on speakerphone," she said, and she left her cell phone on the floor, between Charlie, Larry and her. Both men raised their eyebrows at her with curiosity, and Megan calmly entwined her fingers. "Don, whenever you're ready."

**XxX**


	23. Memories of the Dead

**Title:** "Memories of the Dead"

**Series:** _In the Arms of the Wicked_, Part 23/?

**Characters:** Ian/OMC, Don, OCs.

**Rating:** PG-13.

**Spoilers:** None.

**Warnings:** None.

**Summary:** Who is the woman Ian can't stop thinking about?

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything (characters, situations, etcetera) except my OCs.

**Beta:** The wonderful fredbassett, the fantastic twins_m0m and the great Lily G.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

**In the Arms of the Wicked**

**Part 23****: "Memories of the Dead"**

"So, you're FBI," the hospital's director said to Ian once he and Farrow were seated in his office. The sniper showed him his badge; by his side, the archeologist remained silent. "You're in the middle of an ongoing investigation."

"Yes," Ian responded.

Breathing hard, the Director played with a pen. "This hospital has a very good reputation. If the press finds out that you've been here, rumors would come up and…"

"We don't want that to happen."

"Bringing Dr. Farrow here is not going to contribute to your anonymity, Agent Edgerton."

Ian leaned on the Director's desk, smiling briefly. "The point is that this hospital has lost a patient who is a key element of the case we're working on." He was pleased to see the man get uncomfortable and arrange his glasses.

"Okay, I'll give you that. We can't provide you an explanation."

"What about Lillian Fisher?" Farrow suddenly asked, leaning over the desk, too.

It seemed that the Director was clueless about her. "Who?"

"A friend of mine. She came here looking for Richard. She's short, British, red-haired… She's fifty-years old."

Ian supported the question. "Could you give us something on that?" he asked the Director, who remained silent until he decided to use his desk phone to call the admittance receptionist.

"Stella, I have a question for you. Did you talk to a mature woman today? She had red-hair, British accent, and was looking for Mr. Richard Peyton?"

"Ah, yes, I remember her. She was the one who let us know that Mr. Peyton wasn't in his room. But after giving us the news, she left the hospital. She didn't even complain about the patient being gone." Her voice came out of the phone, and she sounded a bit worried about the fact that she was being asked for the missing patient.

"Okay. Thank you." When the receptionist hung up, the Director entwined his fingers on the table, while Ian and Farrow stared at each other. Leaving without causing a scandal or at least a complaint didn't sound like Lillian at all. "I'm sorry we can't help you more."

"Thank you for answering our questions, Doctor," Ian said before shaking the man's hands. He watched how Farrow did it, too, obviously not very happy with the outcome of the meeting.

Before they left, the Director told him, "We'll keep the body of your friend until the FBI takes over. And that other man…"

"Sergio. His name is Sergio," Farrow clarified.

"Sergio," the Director pointed out, "will be taken care of by our best staff."

Satisfied, Ian nodded and he and Farrow abandoned the room. They passed by Sergio's room and the sniper could see a nurse taking care of him. "Are you sure you want to leave him behind?" he asked the archeologist.

"Yeah, I don't think anyone would do anything to him while he's here. There are too many people around… and that's exactly why I don't understand how no one knows where Richard is. Sergio needs to be taken care of anyway. His injuries aren't the kind that lets him get up and start running right away. On the other hand, we'll live."

Once outside the hospital, Farrow made another effort to reach Lillian again. "Nothing. This is like the fiftieth time I've called her," he said between gritted teeth. "You know, if Richard doesn't appear somewhere, I swear I'm going to sue this hospital."

"Fine, do whatever you want. We should get a ride back to the house and get that stuff out of the ground. Do you think we could do it today?"

Farrow cocked his head as he played with his cell phone. "If we hurry up and work our asses off, yeah."

"Okay, then let's do it. Here's a police station, I'm sure they'll be glad to help the FBI."

He was right, and he knew it. A few minutes later, the police had given them a car and they were on their way to the house again. Ian just hoped that whatever he was going to uncover wouldn't make things worse.

Wanting to get to the bottom of the case as soon as possible, Ian spent the next few hours with Farrow. With the help of shovels and other tools, they removed most of the dirt that was left inside the grid. Evening was approaching by the time they got close to the mysterious, buried object.

"Here," Farrow said as he and Ian kept taking dirt out of the grid. They were sweaty and exhausted, but they had made a commitment. "Just a little bit further…"

The shovels hit something solid. Ian and Farrow discarded them and took out the right equipment to continue their work. It would allow them to carefully get rid of any extra dirt without compromising the evidence.

"C'mon, help me," Farrow asked. Then he started passing a brush very carefully over the dusty surface. Ian took another brush and mimicked the soft, circular movements.

Farrow gave a little yelp, indicating he'd found something. He put his brush away and placed his gloved hands on the dirty, dry ground, dragging the object up. Ian helped him, and he could see what the group of thieves had left there for them to find.

They weren't playing around. The message they've sent Farrow was direct and simple.

There, in front of his eyes, was a dead man. His corpse had been buried there all along. He was wrapped in a big, almost transparent plastic bag. Decomposition had done its work. There was a piece of paper covering his face.

Ian went to cut the bag with a knife so that the note would be free of the disturbing wrapping. When he read what it said, there was no doubt that the members of the cult were as insane as he thought they were. But when he looked up at Farrow, he found a person in shock. His eyes were red, while his skin had become extremely pale.

"This is…" Ian said, only to see the archeologist turn around and walk away. He didn't continue as he watched him go in the old house without looking back.

Taking a deep breath, Ian turned to the bagged corpse and read the note again. "Louis Terrence… Rest In Peace," he muttered, observing the unrecognizable face of the man who'd been killed two years ago. The wind ran through the dark hair of the dead in a cruel and disgusting dance.

One man taken away from his endless sleep; another killed by a bomb; a third one taken away from a hospital; a missing woman.

Ian got up and went to the house. He had answers to demand from a man whose life was falling apart.

Inside, he heard the slam of a door, and he went towards that particular room. He called Farrow, but there was no response. He made several efforts to get him out of there, but eventually, he got tired of it. _This is the last time I'm going to say this._ "Open the door!" Ian yelled, and he knocked on the door hard to make his point. "Do you hear me?"

Nothing happened, and Ian wondered why he'd thought it'd be any different. Farrow had locked himself up in a little room and hadn't responded to any kind of question. Was Louis his partner? Did Farrow suspect anyone near him? Would he confess to what had had actually happened to his lover?

Exhausted and frustrated, the sniper leaned on the door and ran a hand over his face. If Farrow didn't want to collaborate right now, it was understandable. He had a lot of valid excuses for him to isolate himself from the world for a couple of hours. Ian knew he had to be patient.

His hand hurt; the nurse had put a bandage around it, but that hadn't stopped the pain. Thankfully, Ian had been through worse times, so he knew how to handle it. Deciding to wait until Farrow opened his door, Ian went towards the room he shared with him and grabbed a clean t-shirt. Then he went back to the bathroom and took a towel from a shelf near the bathtub. He dampened it in warm water and soon he started to pass it over his hand.

He ended up taking his dirty t-shirt off. He was sweaty and uncomfortable and the feeling of the wet towel on his skin, sliding over his muscles, was really good.

Once he was done, Ian went to take another towel to dry his solid body. Passing it over himself, he noticed he was getting dizzy. In an attempt to steady himself, he closed his eyes for a moment, and saw flashes of his past again.

_Marah had died on the couch, while holding young Ian tightly. He'd hurt his knee, and_ _she'd been asking how he'd got that injury. She'd been smiling. She'd been happy. _

_A bullet had broken the glass behind them and the couch and had entered the back of her head. She'd bled over Ian as he'd watched, his body shaking and his heart in shock. _

_When the paramedics, the police and the FBI had arrived, it had been too late. The last breath of life had escape Marah's body. Ian's clothes had been stained with her blood and the tragedy would always be with him, no matter where he went._

Ian took a deep breath. All that was in the past. His fear of losing Marah was stupid; there was no chance of him having her and seeing her leave again. She was dead and buried and forgotten by the world, but so alive in his head that it was impossible for him to get rid of her. Her touch, her smell, her confident smile, the caress of her hair…

He had to move on – at least for a while longer, like he always told himself.

Absorbed by his thoughts, he turned around, only to find Farrow seated on the toilet. The archeologist's hands rested languidly on his thighs as his eyes were fixed behind Ian. "That body… I haven't seen it two years. I haven't seen him since…"

"… since he died," Ian finished, and Farrow looked up at him. "I read the case file."

"I figured… I didn't do it. I didn't kill Louis. I'll prove it to you one day, once my head stops spinning like a carousel."

The sniper kept drying his arms, not looking at Farrow anymore, but still listening to him. _I'd like to see you do it._ Thinking of an answer, he went to grab his clean t-shirt and he noticed how the archeologist kept his eyes on him, following his every move. "What?" he asked.

"Do you miss her?"

"Who?"

"Marah."

The blood that ran though Ian's veins got suddenly warmer and he snapped, "How the hell do you know that name?"

"Noah told me about her…"

"You have no right to talk about her, and neither does he!"

Farrow simply responded, "I don't think so."

"Stop it! Just… stop." Trying to calm down, Ian left the bathroom and walked down the corridor. On the way outside of the house, his cell phone caught his attention. "Don…"

Don didn't sound very pleased to be calling. "I've got bad news."

_What now?_ "Me, too… We unburied the cult's little surprise for Farrow and Louis Terrence's body appeared there."

"But it was in the cemetery of…"

"Yes, and someone took it out, wrapped it in an expanded polystyrene bag and put it underground, just like the pieces of art."

"That's sick…" Don said. His voice sounded very worried, as it was expected. "I bet Farrow's shocked."

_He still talks too much_… "He is, considering that his other friend, Richard, is missing in strange circumstances. What's your bad news?"

Before answering, there was the sound of Don taking a deep breath. "I sent Megan, Charlie and Larry to Farrow's house out of town… They found Richard Peyton dead, tied to a chair, with signs of torture and probably some kind of drug in his system."

Ian couldn't say anything in response. The cult had already gone too far, and now this had happened. He rubbed his eyes, thinking about how Farrow would react next and what he'd do to make the madness stop. "I'll tell him," he finally said. "Anything else?"

"Yeah… The CalSci students provided us a photo. We should be getting an ID soon. I'll call you again later."

"Okay."

Ian hung up and spent a moment resting his back on the wall, putting his thoughts in order. _Duty comes first. Always. _Determined to break the latest news to Farrow, he went back to the bathroom, but the archeologist wasn't there anymore. Ian searched for him in other rooms and finally found him at the library. Farrow was on the phone as he ran his fingers over the books on the big shelves. "Thank you, Noah. I won't forget this."

_Noah Cameron?_ Ian noticed a laptop on the desk. When he got closer, he could see the image of a cemetery was on the screen, along with the picture of a tombstone. _Marah Edgerton, Beloved Mother and Wife…_

Astonished, the sniper's eyes landed on Farrow, who turned and said, "This had to be done. I have an explanation…"

"You better!" Ian yelled, approaching him and pushing him against the shelves. "You better have a god damn good explanation for messing around with my mother's grave!"

"I asked Noah to put surveillance on her cemetery so that no one touches it! Richard and Lillian are missing, and they're friends of mine! If you remember well, you're supposed to be my newest bodyguard, and a previous one was killed, not to mention that we've just found Louis under my property. People related to me – even the dead ones – are being attacked. I think a little prudence would be in order now."

Ian had to admit that he would have done the same thing, except talking to Cameron. He put his hands on his hips. "Thank you."

Farrow watched him for a moment. "You're welcome, Ian."

The sound of his name being pronounced by Farrow's lips hammered Ian's brain. There was something different between them. So far, he'd say it was something close to trust, even among two people who were basically different.

"Okay, that's done. I wanted to take care of that first, just in case, so that no one else gets hurt…" Farrow sat at his desk and started typing up. He glanced at Ian's guarded face and asked, "What?"

Getting straight to the point was better in these kinds of situations. Like as before, when they had discovered the wrapped, buried body, there would be an initial reaction of shock, but then things would start stabilizing. "Your friend, Richard… we found him."

Immediately, Farrow's eyes widened and his lips tensed. He obviously knew that something bad had to have happened to his colleague. "No. No. Where?"

"In your L.A. house… your room."

Farrow leaned on the back of the chair and covered his face. "We used to spend hours there, revising new magazines. You know, whoever's giving the cult information… I'm going to kill him." When he let Ian see his face, he looked as lost as when he'd seen the body wrapped in plastic.

"Do you have any idea who it might be?" the sniper wanted to know.

"I have a few good friends that come and go and know about Richard, Louis and I… But so far, I can't think of anyone who could hate me this much."

"I see." Ian leaned on the desk, and his eyes landed on Farrow when he started talking again.

"I can't believe they took Louis out of his grave… It seems like it's all happening again."

Now, that was something that grabbed Ian's attention. "Again?"

Staring at the laptop screen with empty eyes, Farrow muttered, "The killing… the hunting." He swallowed. "When I heard the shots that killed Louis… I hid. I didn't do anything. I saw him with those two holes, blood coming out of his body, and all I did was hiding in the cabinet like a coward."

The memory of Marah being murdered in front of him made Ian say, "No. It's not your fault. Besides, according to the file, you emptied your gun first."

Farrow looked up, and he didn't seem to be relieved. "Well, it didn't exactly help, did it?"

Trying to keep up with the conversation, the sniper took a breath and decided to slightly change the subject. He folded his arms and asked, "What kind of relationship did you and Louis…?"

"Lovers – almost," Farrow interrupted him. "Louis was good to me. We were kind of different but that didn't get in the way."

"Could it be the same people who killed him are the ones that are after you now?"

Strangely, Farrow seemed to try to avoid the question, but he finally responded, "Maybe. Maybe not." He rubbed his eyes. "Look, I got into a dirty business with some people I shouldn't have. There were rules, and I broke them because I didn't find them reasonable. In fact, I thought they were completely irrational, not to mention stupid."

"And that's why…"

"Louis paid the price. It was him who got shot, not me. There you go. Is that what you wanted to hear?" After staring at Ian, Farrow got up and walked around the room, breathing heavily. "I cared about him. I made a celibacy promise after he died. I haven't been with someone else since then – men or women."

"Good," Ian responded, "but ridiculous. Those kinds of promises don't last for long, unless you're a monk or a priest. In fact, you've already broken it."

With an indignant expression on his face, Farrow stopped walking and approached Ian. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

The sniper got closer to him. "You've been sending me inappropriate messages since we met. I didn't realize until you let it slip that you are bisexual."

"Does it bother you?"

"No. Do you honestly think you're the first man who's looked at me that way?" Ian snapped, folding his arms. "Whatever you're thinking of, it's not gonna happen. Just so we're clear."

"Curiosity does not equal action."

"I'm glad we agree." They held each other's gaze, like a serious fight was about to break out, if it hadn't started already. Ian's cell phone rang and he picked up the call, never opening the gap between him and Farrow. "What is it?" As he watched the archeologist's determined eyes, he listened to Don explaining some of what the next steps would be. "Yeah," he muttered, and he put it on speakerphone. Then he looked at Farrow again. "Don's about to get a visual and a positive ID of the CalSci shooter. The others have news, too."

"Really? Thank God," Farrow said with irony, as he started to retreat and give Ian some space to breathe.

**XxX**


	24. The Missing Factor

**Title:** "The Missing Factor."

**Series:** _In the Arms of the Wicked_, Part 24/?

**Characters:** Ian/OMC, Don, Charlie, Megan, Larry, Liz, OCs.

**Rating:** PG-13.

**Spoilers:** None.

**Warnings:** None.

**Summary:** Someone's true identity is revealed.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything (characters, situations, etcetera) except my OCs.

**Beta:** The fantastic twins_m0m and the great Lily G.

**VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV**

**In the Arms of the Wicked**

**Part 24****: "The Missing Factor"**

"Hey," Ian firmly said, and Farrow stopped tapping the table. The rhythm had been upsetting him for a minute now and he needed silence to concentrate. "What is this again?" he said, lifting the glass Farrow had served a minute ago.

"It's called _sangría_. It's a drink from Spain – that's where Sergio was born. Anyway, it's made with ice, red wine, brandy and I think some triple sec. It also has lemons and oranges to make it fresher."

The sniper took a sip and realized that it was quite good. However, something else required his attention. "Go, Don." He spoke to his cell phone sitting on the table between him and the archeologist.

Don's voice rose to lead the conversation. "The results on the pictures the CalSci students provided us will be available in five. What do you have, Charlie?"

Sounds of techs talking in the background, papers being flipped around, and laptop keys being pressed were heard through the cell phone. Thoughtful, Ian entwined his fingers and let his chin rest on them. He had the feeling there would be revelations soon, and he was never wrong about that. Snipers tended to develop an intuition about whether or not an operation was going to be successful.

Within seconds, Professor Fleinhardt and Professor Eppes started their explanation. The latter said, "We assumed that the series of events we have so far are all interconnected to one another. However, they might not necessarily work together that way."

It was usually hard enough to follow him at the office, even when he was surrounded by support equipment and could show graphics, figures and animation to those who didn't understand him. Now, without all that, Ian waited for an analogy or the final punch. He tried to keep up as he analyzed every single word that was coming out of his cell phone, but he couldn't restrain himself from saying, "What the hell does that mean?"

"The links could exist only between some of the facts so they are in the right order. For example, that's how word structure works," Professor Eppes continued. "There are events – in this case, letters – that don't make sense as words in a language unless there are certain other vowels or consonants behind and after them. So what we have to do is find the right order that links the buried pieces of art, the Horus-eye, the CalSci shooting, the jet explosion, the bomb in the SUV and the discovery of Richard Peyton's body…"

"There something else, guys," Agent Warner muttered. "You don't know this yet, but there is news on Louis Terrence. He was found…"

"He was found buried in my land," Farrow explained, and he sounded angry as he came closer to the speakerphone. "He was taken out of his grave in Phoenix and wrapped in a plastic bag so I'd see him like that. Can we move on?"

"Sit down," Ian commanded, and Farrow silently obeyed.

"I'm sorry, Christopher," Professor Fleinhardt said.

Farrow leaned on the back of his chair and rubbed his hands on his darkened face. "It's fine. No one could have done anything about it." What he was saying was true, but his reactions were definitely hiding something else – the lie Ian had seen all along but hadn't been able to figure out yet.

Quietly, Ian made mental notes on the latest people he'd had news about.

_One bodyguard down._

_Sergio was left at the hospital._

_Louis Terrence – __Farrow's former lover, killed in 2007 for still not clarified reasons. Motive could be a bad business relationship between Farrow and someone else._

_Richard Peyton – his friend, found dead in L.A._

_Lillian Fisher – another friend, still missing._

There was the sound of someone taking a breath. Don said, "How does that fit your theory, Charlie?"

"It doesn't really alter the structure we came up with… The truth is, it looks like two groups of people with different intentions are involved. The robberies, the shooting, the jet and SUV bomb, plus both Peyton's and Terrence's bodies… Those events are a direct attack to Dr. Farrow. However, the found pieces that lead us to the Horus-eye indicate protection, which means someone's watching his back."

"Of course, there are links to Christopher's past," Fleinhardt said. "Whoever is trying to hurt him, they know exactly how to do it. They were able to track Louis and put him right in front of his eyes with the obvious motive of causing deep psychological damage, isn't it possible, Megan?"

"It is, absolutely," she responded.

"So we think that the person who's working for the cult used to be part of Christopher's circle before, during and after Louis' death."

There was silence on the line. Ian took a deep breath and watched how the archeologist's hands turned into fists.

"No one. Lillian, Richard, Sergio and my bodyguards have been my friends for years now…" Farrow started saying.

"But Lillian is missing since she went to the hospital to find Richard," Ian muttered.

Fleinhardt's voice came out of the cell phone. "You have to be ready to face new outcomes that could define strange scenarios, Christopher. Maybe someone is not who you think they are."

The idea seemed to disturb Farrow. He bit his bottom lip and stared at the table, frowning.

"Megan?" Don called.

She responded, "I've got some pictures here…"

"What pictures?" Farrow asked.

"Pictures of you and your friends. I found them in a box, in your attic. A lot of them are very interesting… Did you happen to work on a project involving the Horus-eye, Dr. Farrow? Because I can see you here in a lab examining antiques with Lillian and Richard…"

"It was a five years ago in France. That's when I met them."

"Is Lillian the woman with the red hair?"

"Yes."

"Who else did you know by then?

"Only one of my bodyguards… the one who died. I met the others recently."

"What about Sergio?"

"Just… Leave him out of this. He started working with me three years ago, and he's always been there for me."

Things were slowly starting to come together in Ian's head. As he listened to Reeves and Farrow talk, his mind started putting some pieces in the right order. _Maybe Professor Eppes' ideas do make sense, no matter the distance or the lack or support material._

"Okay… Lillian seems to be very attached to the Horus-eye symbol," Reeves continued.

"She's always talked about it a lot. I think she's more passionate about that subject than me. She always carries around some kind of necklace with the Eye. In a way, it's like her signature…"

"I can see a tattoo on her chest… A little representation of the Eye, along with a number."

Suddenly, Farrow's eyes widened. "A number?"

"Yes, why?"

He covered his face with his hands. "She's part of the cult." Everyone snapped a shocked, "What?" so he explained, "That's a mark the members use to get into secret reunions…"

"And how do you know that, if they're secret?" Reeves asked.

There was silence, until he answered, "Because I studied this organization, remember? I was involved in several investigations about it."

Ian observed his reactions and the way he talked. Farrow kept so many secrets. For now, however, the sniper decided to move on. "So you think Lillian's the one behind the bomb that killed your bodyguard?" He waited for the archeologist's answer, but it never came.

Tension was in the air again until Don announced, "Hold on, I've got the results on the picture… Okay, I wasn't expecting this." Farrow folded his arms tightly as the answer took some time to come.

"We have a positive ID on the CalSci shooter… Sergio García," Warner finally said. "Born in Spain in 1979…"

It seemed like a bomb had been thrown through the line. Dr. Farrow froze in front of Ian, who didn't really think the news was so surprising. "I gotta go back to that hospital near Phoenix. We left Sergio there," the sniper informed.

"Oh dear, he's the missing 1/64," Fleinhardt explained. "He's the missing piece in this puzzle, the factor that makes all the Horus-Eye fractions, when added, give us a unity and not just 63/64. Like the old wise men would say, he's the element that takes our minds closer to the light and reveals the hidden facts behind this mystery. It's a revelation."

"I get it now," Farrow muttered. "Lillian somehow found out about his plans but she couldn't tell me because he's with me all the time, so she sent me a message through the pieces of art… Using the Horus-eye, which represents her, she tried to tell me to protect myself. She wanted me not to trust anyone."

Ian put his hands on the table. "I think we're closer to find out what's going on here. Even closer than most people think," he muttered, fixing his eyes on Farrow, who held his gaze on him, too. "Don, tell the local police to pay Sergio a visit so he's there by the time any of us get there."

"All right. I'll also tell David and Colby to go there as soon as they land," Don informed, and it seemed that everyone was starting to work on what would become the next stage of the current investigation.

A little confused, Ian took his _sangría_ from the table and examined it closely. "Sergio." He saw Farrow nod and decided that it'd been a mistake to have his drink. He took both glasses and got up, but as soon as he made a step forward, dizziness affected his ability to move.

The glasses crashed against the floor and within seconds, Farrow was trying to catch him from falling. However, whatever that _sangría_ had, it was making him weaker, too. When Ian was on his fours, fighting the power of the tampered Spanish drink, he heard something.

Footsteps.

He and Farrow froze until someone appeared at the door.

Sergio's body seemed to be taller from the floor. He stood there as they lost their energy, watching the scene. He obviously didn't care. Not one bit.

"You… son of a…" Farrow muttered, but before he could finish the sentence, he collapsed on the floor.

Don's voice came out of the cell phone. "What's going on? Ian! Farrow!"

_I gotta…_ Ian's trembling hand reached for Sergio, but it was too late. He hadn't seen it coming. For a moment, he'd thought he'd found people who he could trust in.

Evidently, he'd been wrong.

**XxX**


	25. An Order to Follow

**Title:** "An Order to Follow"

**Series:** _In the Arms of the Wicked_, Part 25/?

**Characters:** McGowan, Don, OMC, Liz.

**Rating:** T.

**Spoilers:** Season 5.

**Warnings:** None.

**Summary:** McGowan has some news for Don.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything (characters, situations, etcetera) except my OCs.

**Beta:** The fantastic twins_m0m and the great Lily G.

**VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV**

**In the Arms of the Wicked**

**Part 2****5: "An Order to Follow"**

_Let's see what you do. _From the war room door, Carl observed what Don's team did when an emergency arrived. It seemed that something or someone had fallen to the floor at Dr. Farrow's Arizona house. Then there was silence, and after that, footsteps.

"You… son of a…" the archeologist's voice came out.

They were in danger. Don shouted, "What's going on? Ian! Farrow!" There was no answer. Whoever was there, had hung up.

Tension filled the room. Don held the edges of the table as Agent Warner ran her hands over her hair. Her eyes soon landed on his, but they suddenly changed their direction. When Don turned around, Carl stated, "You better start putting together an operation, because if any of those men gets killed, you can be sure Cameron's going to come down on you."

Taking a deep breath, Don turned to the phone and threw the pictures of Sergio García to the table. "Megan, I want you back at the office ASAP with everything you got from that crime scene, do you understand me?"

"Yes, Don. We're moving!" Megan said, and then she hung up.

Carl let his fingers tap the doorframe in a frenetic rhythm that cut the air. It wasn't that he was nervous. He wanted to share his expectation, his impatience when it came to solving a case like this. He usually never did this; an agent who had high security clearance level had to stay calm, after all. But in this opportunity, he wanted to test Don.

It was Don himself who pointed at the phone and said, "Liz, put David and Colby on the line, tell them to get out of that motel and get to that house!" He looked so worried, passing his hands over his face over and over again, that Carl thought his work there was done. He would monitor every step of the operation as soon as there was news, but there was something he had to take care of first.

With steady footsteps, he returned to his office and sat at his desk. Calmly, he took out his cell phone and dialed a well-known number. He waited for the other person to pick up.

"Cameron."

"Sir, I'm calling to update you on the Arizona case… Agent Edgerton and Christopher Farrow were assaulted two minutes ago. The assigned team is taking action on it as we speak."

Cameron didn't answer immediately. To Carl, that wasn't a surprise. After all, the EAD had interest in the people involved. "Is Agent Eppes still leading the operation?"

Something had to be going on for Cameron to ask such thing. "Yes."

"Okay. Carl, check your computer. See the last entries to your database."

Frowning, Carl did what he was asked. Using his password, he entered the system and some numbers caught his attention among the displayed entries. "I got an intrusion… at 3 p.m., dated two days ago." He could hear Cameron take a deep breath.

"Eppes came to see me."

So that was what this was about. Don had broken into his computer, found Cameron's data and gone to see him. It was probably because of those tapes that had disappeared. Carl didn't know what kind of information they contained, but he should find out soon if they were in his boss' hands. "Is everything okay?"

"Yes, everything's fine."

"Should I…?"

"No. Not right now because I want him to finish this case. But let him know. You know what to do. I'll take care of the rest."

So the decision had been made. "Of course." With quiet manners, Carl hung up and entwined his fingers over the table. He could remember the calls he'd made so that Don's team could work on Arizona. He could also remember Don's expression when he'd told him that the tapes were missing. Why would he go visit Cameron, especially considering that he could be considered a suspect of intent of attack? Looking for a man who'd gone into Protective Custody wasn't the smartest move. There had to be a secret there, and he had to find it out.

Very worried, Carl took a deep breath and spent a while just thinking about what the next steps would be. After a short time, he made a decision. There were higher priorities right now. Too many things were happening in Arizona – uncontrolled, out of his hands. Besides, he had to follow Cameron's orders.

Someone had to check that everything was being done according to the book, so he went back to the war room. Don and Liz were talking to Agents Granger and Sinclair over the speaker phone. He watched the scene from the door again.

Don had taken the lead. "David, Colby, where are you?"

"We just checked in at the motel. We landed like an hour ago," Sinclair responded.

"All right, you two listen to me. We've got a very bad situation in Arizona. Ian and Farrow have been attacked."

"What? By whom?"

"We think it's Sergio."

"The butler?" Granger asked.

"Yeah… He's doing the inside job for the cult. The point is, we were talking to them on the phone, then the line went dead. We're sure something happened, so you gotta go there and be my eyes while the rest of us work here. Are we clear?"

"Consider us there already, Don," David announced.

Carl decided to enter the room. _This has to be done now._ "Please, follow me. I need to talk to you," he told Don, and he guided him into an empty office. "Please, take a seat."

Don sat down and remained silent; Carl walked around and slid his hands into his pockets. "Do you know what I found what I checked the entries to my database?" In response, Don frowned and opened his mouth, but Carl stopped him. "No, no, please. Don't even bother."

There was no point in explaining everything to Don. So Carl continued, "So that's how you found EAD Cameron's address… Did you ever consider how suspicious that would make you look? You could even be considered as an intruder, as a possible suspect of breaking into Protective Custody. You did know that Cameron's father was killed by a double agent, didn't you?"

Rubbing his forehead, Don explained, "I did, but only because he told me when I went to see him. Apparently, he knows Agent Ian Edgerton…"

"Of course he does."

Don didn't understand what Carl meant by that. He added, "I just wanted to talk to him about what happened at my house and Amita Ramanujan's case…"

"But you weren't allowed to. Protective Custody exists for a reason," Carl stated, and then stood in front of Don. "You made a very bad decision, Don. And for that, when this case is over, your security clearance will get suspended until we decide if you're trustworthy enough to work with us again."

Don's face tensed and his mouth hung open in protest. But before he could say anything, a familiar voice said, "What?"

When Carl turned around, he could see Dr. Charles Eppes, Dr. Fleinhardt and Agent Reeves at the door. They all looked consternated, as they'd heard his last words.

"Don, what's going on? Why is he saying you'll get suspended?" Charlie asked, but the only thing Don did was shake his head, get up and leave the room.

**XxX**


	26. Wanted

**Title:** "Wanted"

**Series:** _In the Arms of the Wicked_, Part 26/36

**Characters:** Ian/OMC, OCs.

**Rating:** T.

**Spoilers:** None.

**Warnings:** None.

**Summary:** Ian and Dr. Farrow meet the cult.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything (characters, situations, etcetera) except my OCs.

**Beta:** The fantastic twins_m0m and the great Lily G.

**VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV**

**In the Arms of the Wicked**

**Part 26****: "Wanted"**

Her footsteps sounded feminine and confident as she walked towards the gate of the stunning mansion. There, the cult's next reunion was going to take place, and she was determined to attend.

Phoenix was a weird city for this organization to meet. However, a restricted area like this place would do. She just hoped that if Sergio was there, he hadn't found out about her plans.

Lillian arranged her mask and tried to be careful not to ruin her new dress. It was very simple and formal, different from her usual fancy clothes – garments no one would expect her to wear. She had found that with the expensive mask on she looked like a complete stranger when she looked in the mirror, yet still appeared as someone who could easily mix among the members of the cult.

Leaving her Horus-eye necklace at the cheap hotel she was staying in was hard, but she had to be careful. She had a goal, a purpose, and she was going to go for it no matter what or how long it took. She'd find Richard and luckily, no one would recognize her during her journey to the dark side of high class society.

When she reached the gate, she got ready to meet the man in tuxedo that was there to screen guests. Lillian took out a little fan from her purse and waved it across her face as she slowly showed him the tattoo she had on her chest.

Without a word, the man took a look at the area near her right breast and nodded. Access was granted to her and she stepped onto the large property. There were luxurious cars - Rolls Royse, Ferraris and BMWs – perfectly parked along the sides of the entrance. A long path guided her towards the giant mansion doors, and when she was close enough, they opened for her.

The glow of the golden interior had always made her uncomfortable. She really hated this use of money – thousands of dollars spent in fancy decorations and expensive clothes, exotic food and exclusive waiters that walked around offering strange drinks.

Everyone's masks were in their place, gracefully hiding each member's face. As she walked around, Lillian wished she knew some of their identities; however, anonymity was one of the secret society's rules, and the masquerade provided that secrecy. They held their cups of fine wine high, sometimes making a little toast, sometimes just waiting with anxiety for the main moment to come.

Colleagues in obsession, guests talked about science, doctrines and the knowledge that lay in the past. Truth diggers, visionaries, liars – all of them here, blinded.

She'd once been part of the craziness. She'd devoted herself to this, even if she considered it to be only an interesting experience and not a reason to put aside the rest of her beliefs.

But just like the missing factor in the Horus-eye fractions was supposed to make scribes see the light, the cult had showed her the truth. The Leader was the biggest trickster.

Trying to mix, Lillian accepted a glass of wine from a butler's tray and barely tasted the liqueur's flavor. Conversations were different now. The topic had changed.

The familiar British accent of an old man and a young lady caught her attention first.

"They got him," he was saying.

"Who?"

"The traitor. The one we've been looking for so long."

The glass almost slipped from her fingers. Her lips were dry as she kept listening.

"Is he here?"

"According to the latest news, he is. And he's not alone… They found the accomplice – the person who helped him to get his hands on the antiques."

Licking her lips, Lillian waited. If these people were right, something big would happen that night and she'd have to stop it. Old matters never died for this cult, especially when they were about betrayal.

She didn't have to wait for long. Soon one of the leaders, an old, blonde man with a ruby ring lifted his cup, asking for silence. Everyone got quiet and turned to him with respect. Lillian mimicked them, just like she'd always done. Fitting in had never been so important.

"Dear friends and colleagues, welcome," he said with a charismatic voice. "I hope you are all having an excellent evening." With elegance, he raised his cup a bit more. "I am extremely pleased to see so many familiar faces." The joke made some of the guests smile wickedly. "As you all know, this is a place for us to interact and share – a place for discovery, for faith in the knowledge of the Egyptian civilization. But tonight is a special occasion."

People moved in their places. Looking impatient, they remained silent.

The Leader continued. "I know there have been rumors about tonight's reappearance of an old friend or ours, so let's not hold back this reunion anymore." Smiling, he got closer to a big, golden door that was behind him and announced, "Welcome Dr. Christopher Farrow and his bodyguard, Mr. Ian Edgerton."

The doors opened and with hands and ankles cuffed, the prisoners were thrown into the room by two strong men dressed in brown. Their skin was shiny from the sweat and their eyes weren't exactly clear. Lillian covered her mouth as she realized that they've been given some kind of drug. She'd been expecting this to happen, but having it in front of her eyes was completely different.

"Here they are," the Leader announced again, opening his arms. "The traitors!" That made the others excited. The once quiet guests started cursing at Chris and Ian as they tried to get up from the floor and kneel without falling.

But words were coming out of the archeologist's mouth. "No… no… you're the traitor…"

"What?"

Everyone went silent again.

"What did you say?" the Leader asked again, turning to Chris. "You are a disrespectful, filthy sinner. How dare you raise your voice against us when we opened our arms for you, when we offered you knowledge and wisdom?" He left his drink with one of the waiters and extended his hand. "Give it to me."

A man with a white mask came close and handed him a long object. When Lillian could see what it was, she gasped. The Leader had control over a whip now, and he was going to torture the traitors just like ancient pharaohs tortured their slaves when they didn't obey.

"Let's show this traitor what the rage of the Gods has decided as the punishment he deserves," he added, and the group of followers raised their glasses in massive approval. However, his supposed justice wasn't immediately applied to the traitors. Instead, he stood in front of Chris and Ian and played with his whip. The Leader looked to his left, as if he was searching for someone. When he didn't seem to find that person, he turned to face his preys again.

Defiant, Chris put his head high, locking eyes with the Leader. Words sounded rough when he muttered, "It's all about the money."

The blonde man's lips tensed; his fingers wrapped tighter around the whip. He was about to perform his little show for the eager audience when a familiar voice asked, "Let me."

The people in the room turned to a dark corner, and from the shadows, Sergio emerged. Watching him walk towards the prisoners, Lillian held her breath and her rage.

"Sergio… You're dead," Chris muttered from the floor.

Sergio's words came out slow and teasingly. "For some reason, I don't think so." He took the whip from the Leader's hand and his eyes went from his boss to Ian. "Now we'll see what hurts you the most."

Chris' voice shouted, "No, don't do that! He doesn't have anything to do with…!"

There was nothing he could do. The whip hit Ian's skin with a clean sound, marking – burning – his taut skin. He trembled and his muscles contracted visibly, but never let out a cry of pain. From time to time, he squeezed his eyes in shock.

With horror, Lillian watched the scene. Her entire body trembled at the thought of what those injuries would feel like. _If only they knew._ Lillian restrained herself from doing justice right then and there. But it would be worthless. Staring at the infinite power the Leader seemed to have on his cult and at Sergio's stupidity, she felt anger flow through her veins. _Bastard. It's all about the money._

Finally, apparently tired of taking advantage of the prisoners, Sergio stopped and threw the whip to the floor. Then he knelt down beside Chris and cupped his face. "I think you're in big trouble, Chris…"

"I'm FBI, so I'd say you're in bigger trouble," Ian responded with a rough voice, as he breathed hard. The crowd started whispering.

"Silence!" a tall, dark-haired man demanded, taking a step forward and facing the Leader and Sergio. "FBI? Is this true? Because it's not what we've arranged!" A chorus of "What is this?" and "This is outrageous!" followed.

"Take these two and lock them in the dressing room," Sergio muttered to the men dressed in brown that had brought Ian and Chris. They took the prisoners and forced them out until the doors closed and Lillian couldn't see them anymore.

The usually well organized situation was out of control. People wanted answers, and as researchers, they couldn't risk their reputations if they were found out to be part of a cult. "Oh, don't believe these sinners' lies… They are a hideous blasphemy we can not tolerate!"

The scandal didn't end there, but luckily for Lillian, it'd give her plenty of time to start making some real justice. With the chaos as a distraction, she was soon able to slip through one of the several doors and into a very long corridor. She remembered being in it once before; the corners were as dark now as they used to be, but that didn't stop her.

She found the Leader's room in the same place she'd found it two years ago, while investigating a lead regarding Chris' lover, Louis Terrence. It was great news that the Leader didn't want any cell phones on during the meetings, and that for once he himself followed one of the group's rules.

Her device called for her to touch it. She grabbed it, and quickly dialed 911, determined to change the course of the case for once and for all.

_This madness has to stop__!_

**XxX**


	27. The Truth within the Truth

**Title:** "The Truth Within the Truth"

**Series:** _In the Arms of the Wicked_, Part 27/36

**Characters:** Ian/OMC.

**Rating:** T.

**Spoilers:** None.

**Warnings:** None.

**Summary:** Ian demands Dr. Farrow to confess the real truth.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything (characters, situations, etcetera) except my OCs.

**Beta:** The fantastic twins_m0m and the great Lily G.

**VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV**

**In the Arms of the Wicked**

**Part 27****: "The Truth within the Truth"**

The feeling of cold wood against damaged skin was a relief. Ian didn't mind being thrown into a dark room where only a corner was reached by the moonlight. He'd have fresh air. He'd have a bit of silence. He'd have some space to think as fast as he could.

"There you go, animal," a rough voice said. Then the door was closed and locked.

Alone, Ian concentrated on getting rid of the pain that still burned his insides. It took him quite a while to recover his ability to breathe normally and get enough piece of mind to take the next step.

Five minutes later, his muscles still trembled a bit, but at least he could start analyzing the situation. He squeezed his eyes, trying to control his constant sweating, and he moved to the lighted part of the room. There, he focused on remembering what people had said in the crowded room, right before the whip did its work on him. Scenes were flashing through his mind as well as fragments of voices providing him tiny pieces of information.

The tall, blonde man with the ruby ring had said very interesting things to Farrow…

"_How dare you raise your voice against us when we opened our arms for you, when we_ _offered you knowledge and wisdom?"_

Farrow had been close to that man. He'd been…

The door opened again and a man in brown threw someone else inside. Then he disappeared.

Ian didn't need any light to know who the other prisoner was. However, he didn't get angry; suddenly, he smiled and took a deep breath. "Ah, it doesn't matter who gets to kill you – the cult or me -, you're dead anyway. And somehow, I get the feeling you won't have the opportunity to choose."

A body shifted on the floor. Farrow grunted, "I don't give a damn."

"Yes, you do. If not, why would you bother hiding so many things? You were part of this cult. Now I don't know why in hell you'd join those nut jobs, but then again, I don't get that stupid love for danger you have."

"I didn't mean this to happen. I was supposed to keep it under control."

"Well, very well done! You missed Sergio's plan, you even missed Lillian's, and they're supposed to be your best friends!"

"You didn't see those either, did you?" Farrow's tone was full of sarcasm.

The worst part was that it was true. Ian hadn't seen it coming, and he'd supposed to. He was trained, he could figure people out. But he had to admit that he'd let some walls come down, he'd let some people in. If Sergio García and Lillian Fisher had their own intentions, Farrow had to have one, too. "I'm not playing, I already told you," Ian interrupted him. "So you better start talking or I…"

The figure moved towards Ian and Farrow's face came into the light. "Fine. You wanna hit me? Then you'll get the chance when this is over. Now can we move on? I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm not exactly having fun here, don't you think?"

At least he seemed to be telling the truth now. He had bruises on his neck, like someone had tried to choke him, and he had a black eye.

Farrow leaned on the wall beside Ian and grabbed his shoulder. "That idiot did his work. He almost dislocated my arm."

Ian glanced at him. "Good. Saved me time."

"_Thank you,_" the other man responded between gritted teeth.

For a moment, neither of them talked. They just breathed heavily, waiting for the obligated subject to surface.

"You were a member," Ian finally muttered. "You were a member and yet you didn't tell me."

"Yes."

"After all this, you turn out to _be_ a crazy fanatic like all those other people out there…"

"Reverse psychology again?"

"Not this time. I don't have that much faith in you anymore."

Shaking his head, Farrow fixed his eyes on the floor. "They're not fanatics. They pretend to be, but they're not," Farrow said, turning to Ian. "Look, they entered this group for the same reason I did – knowledge, exclusivity, the opportunity of having an experience that could somehow make us understand ancient civilizations. I'm pretty sure all members have good reputations they need to keep as researchers, archeologists, wealthy business men…"

"That's what the masks are for," Ian muttered.

"Anonymity is very important. They're curious and yes, they are insane enough to enter a fake secret society that tries to keep Egyptians' beliefs alive." Looking exhausted, Farrow licked his lips. "They're peculiar, but they're not idiots. They know that this is all marketing. The Leader, on the other hand, thinks he has them eating from the palm of his hand."

"The asshole with the ruby ring. Quite a show-off with those fancy manners."

That got a smile from Farrow. "Exactly. He thinks he controls everything, but he doesn't. The worst part is, he's not even a fanatic himself."

"I'm listening." _And you better tell me everything this time._

"Don't worry, I don't think we're in a situation where I can allow myself to distort the facts anymore," the archeologist answered as if he could read Ian's mind. He took a deep breath and started his little tale. "Three years ago, I got a letter from someone – no name, no references, just an address – inviting me attend a meeting of minds who were in pursuit of the truth. I was a complete idiot back then, and I went. That's how it all started. I met people who had been invited, just like me, and I made good connections."

"What about the antiques? How did they get them?"

"They had contacts within organizations, like the Cairo Museum, and they liked to brag about it in the meetings. They never gave any names, but they were all in the same situation I was. That's why we were asked to join, apparently. They had really nice statues, I gotta say. They were really into Horus, and Seth."

"The lettuce freaks." With that, Ian got himself a bad look.

"Those are myths, okay? That's not important anyway. I had the brilliant idea of asking the Leader to return the antiques, and of course, he didn't want to cooperate. So he threatened me to reveal my identity and blame me for the robberies," Farrow explained. "It was a good move, I gotta say. I had connections there."

_How funny._ Ironically, the sniper turned to Farrow and whispered, "Poor you."

"Would you stop that? I'm trying to tell you what happened. I get it that you think I'm a liar and…"

"… and a clown…"

"Liar, clown, whatever you want. But you and I know that I can't do this if you keep interrupting me."

Ian just took a deep breath and looked away.

"I said that I'd do it. It was the time when the antiques started to appear around cities, buried in people's backyards. I couldn't stand to see how the Leader talked about ancient knowledge and yet spent most of his time trying to sell the antiques on the black market."

Ian's eyes were fixed on Farrow's. "_You_ did it. You buried those pieces of art." He couldn't believe it; the answer had been in front of him all along.

"The burying method is my M.O. That's why I knew how to work on these investigations so well."

The sniper shook his head, feeling a bit dizzy. "You compromised the evidence. Expanded polystyrene damaged the pieces."

"But if the wrapping was too good, then it'd be obvious it was me. It's what I do. Besides, I only buried the first set, because I'd told Sergio about my participation in a society and my stealing the antiques from them. He obviously told the Leader and that's when everything went to hell."

There was something Ian had to admit – Farrow was a brave bastard. "And they took it out on Louis."

Frowning, Farrow took a breath. "Yeah. We'd given the bodyguards the day off, and Sergio knew it. The Leader and some skunks broke into my house one evening and shot Louis. That's why he died. I know that I said that I hadn't killed him, and I obviously didn't with my own hands… but he was murdered because of me."

In respect of the death, Ian remained silent. He could still see the decomposed body they'd found in Farrow's land. "Did they say anything to you?"

"Yeah. They said that I'd better take my investigations in the wrong direction and mislead the governments and organizations I worked for. But I didn't comply, see?" Farrow said, almost proud of himself. "I asked the Cairo Museum if they could put me in contact with someone I could ask for protection within the U.S. That's how I met Noah Cameron. I was going to go into Protective Custody but he had another idea."

The memory of Cameron made Ian shiver. He didn't want to have anything to do with him. Such person didn't have the right to talk about his mother to a total stranger like Farrow. "He offered you do the inside job and as you love to get shot at, you agreed. You agreed and you paid the FBI," he concluded.

"We've already talked about this. I paid because, by that time, I felt guilty about Louis's death. I still…" Lowering his head, Farrow didn't finish the sentence. "The cult was keeping track of me, so I ended up doing meaningless research and telling everybody that I wasn't making any progress. In the meantime, I created some scandals at the tabloids so my credibility declined. I felt like crap for that, with everything I'd achieved, but luckily, Lillian and Richard kept being my friends. They believed in me, no matter how much of an idiot I looked like on TV or in the magazines…"

"Sergio stood by your side, too." Ian meant that as a joke, but Farrow didn't answer. "Did everyone know you had buried the antiques?"

"Apparently, yes. They forced me to go to a couple of meetings, where I got bashed by the members. Now that I think about it, around that time I told Sergio that I was working with the FBI. The cult didn't call me after that."

Everything came together in Ian's mind. "Of course. They didn't call you because Sergio and the others were planning a bigger vengeance than the last one… They set your jet on fire, they put a bomb in the SUV."

"I bet that was Sergio. I still can't believe he'd risked himself like that to finish me."

"He seems to be pretty loyal to the cult. He must have told the others that Richard had survived, and they took the liberty to torture him and leave his body at your L.A. house. Same thing with Louis' corpse." Little by little, the story started to make sense. The last piece was a woman. "But Lillian knew and she tried to warn you. She must have that that if she used your M.O. and a message related to the Horus-eye, maybe you'd get it in time."

"Maybe… but I obviously didn't," Farrow said, smiling.

Ian looked around. "Yes… You didn't tell the truth and here we are now, enjoying the freak show."

"Front line seats."

"I don't know about you, but I don't find it very entertaining."

"I know. I want my money back."

Grinning, Ian thought about the sweet moment in which he'd get to go after Farrow and take away all that irony of his.

"It's all about the money. That's all the Leader cares about, selling the antiques, while the others are a mass of blind jerks who are here for some imaginary knowledge," the archeologists stated. "So that's the truth, at least from my side. What now? Do we work together to get out of here?"

"No. I take care of everything and save your ass for you to wiggle it around the tabloids one more day. And that doesn't have any sexual intent."

"I know… Don't worry about it."

They spent a moment in silence. There had to be a way for them to get free and alert the FBI about the cult's secret meeting.

The archeologist suddenly shifted in his place. "Do you think Agent Eppes and the others will find us?"

"I think they will. It'll take them some time, though, because they must know something happened to us but they don't know where the hell we are," Ian explained. "In the meantime, we gotta think of a way to get out of here," he proposed as his eyes wandered around the darkness of the room.

Until a while later, the door opened again.

**XxX**


	28. Decoded

**Title:** "Decoded"

**Series:** _In the Arms of the Wicked_, Part 28/36

**Characters:** Charlie, Don, Megan, Larry, Liz, McGowan, David, Colby, mention of Charlie/Colby.

**Rating:** T.

**Spoilers:** Season 5.

**Warnings:** None.

**Summary:** Charlie tries to make Don understand that fixing what he shouldn't will bring him serious trouble into his life.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything (characters, situations, etcetera) except my OCs.

**Beta:** The fantastic twins_m0m and the great Lily G.

**VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV**

**In the Arms of the Wicked**

**Part 28****: "Decoded"**

"What?" Charlie muttered, entering the room where Don was. The last few words spoken by McGowan had had a terrible effect on him. "Don, what's going on? Why is he saying you'll get suspended?" Just asking made him tremble. He couldn't have missed so much while he was at Farrow's house.

His brother held his gaze, but suddenly he shook his head, got up from his chair and left. It wasn't the response Charlie expected.

Carl turned to him, arranging his jacket. "What you heard, Professor. EAD Cameron made the decision," he said before leaving with a serious look on his face.

Astonished, Charlie found his closest friend's eyes. Megan cocked her head, advising him to follow Don. Larry seemed to agree, and Charlie didn't waste one more minute.

He went through the door, ready to demand honest answers and even start a fight. However, once he located Don in an empty office, the urge to shout went away. One hand against the doorframe, he watched his brother lean on the table. He had bags under his eyes because of all the hard work, but that obviously wasn't the reason why he'd made such bad decisions. "Don't tell me that you went and…" As there was no response, Charlie took a deep breath and put his hand down. "I can't believe it."

Megan stood at the door, too - one hand on the doorframe, the other one on her hip. "What happened?"

When Charlie turned to her, he noticed how worried she was. But he had to sit down before giving her a proper explanation. He sat down beside the door, far from Don. "He… He had a face-to-face with Noah Cameron."

"But we have nothing on him with our security clearance level, the only person who could have information about where to find him would be…" Megan stopped in the middle of the sentence and bit her bottom lip. She'd obviously got it. "McGowan."

Charlie nodded, rubbing his eyes. "Exactly."

She came into the room and asked Don, "So what did you do? You stole classified data from him? A location, a telephone number?"

"He broke into his computer," Liz's voice said. When Charlie looked up, he saw her body against the doorframe, her arms folded, right beside Larry. "I tried to stop him, but you know he's kind of stubborn." Her words could be taken as a joke, but her face said otherwise.

"This is about the tapes?" Megan asked.

And that broke Don's silence. "Yeah, because he can't handle it!" he yelled, breathing hard but not looking at anyone in particular. Charlie was about to respond when McGowan appeared again.

"Reeves, please come with me," he asked. She looked around then walked away.

Larry's eyes followed her but he didn't move from his place. "I honestly think that a mature conversation could solve…"

"You want maturity, Larry, then ask Charlie for it," Don interrupted him. In front of Charlie's eyes, a thoughtful Larry fixed his eyes on the floor and slowly walked out the door. Liz had to answer her cell phone and she left, too.

Don licked his lips and sat at the table. He grabbed his head and said, "Jesus."

Watching him curse, Charlie's rage returned. Why had his brother done something like this, something that could potentially risk his career? Why had he made such bad decisions, why had he acted like this? He didn't even want to think of the answer. Flashes of their last fight made him shiver.

"Why, Don?" he ended up saying, holding himself back from yelling. "Why did you do it? Just… Just tell me."

"You know why," was Don's response.

Charlie swallowed as his brother's words triggered his anger. "What's wrong with you? How could you do that? That's completely crazy, not to mention that I specifically told that I didn't need your help!"

With that, Don got up and turned to him. "Well, if you weren't going to handle it, then I had to make sure you and Colby were okay! And don't forget that David's involved, too!"

Charlie got up as well, facing his brother. "So that's the excuse. You don't give people enough time to react, and you take care of everything by yourself."

"Yes. This wasn't the moment to take days to come up with a math theory about the probability of the tapes coming out or not!"

That comment hit Charlie's heart hard. Math was his life, but he was trying to set it aside in order to be with Colby. It wasn't going to be easy if he was always reminded that his brain had always relied on calculations. "Well, guess what?" he said, standing still and lowering his voice. "If you had waited for a few more hours, you would have found out that Colby and I made a decision."

Immediately, Don started to calm down and he raised one hand. "Hold on, hold on… What do you mean?"

Charlie was very careful when he muttered, "I mean that… Colby and I have decided that we don't care if people know about us." As Don hid his face under his palms, he continued, "We know it's highly probable that we'll keep our jobs, and the truth is that we don't really want to hide anymore. It's only caused trouble so far."

Stumbling, Don fell back onto his chair. With absent eyes, he looked up. "You've got to be kidding me. So I did all that for nothing?"

It was hard to answer that question, even if the answer was implied. "If you would have asked…"

"Stop it, Charlie… I get it."

"You have to understand that I feel like I need to say it one more time, since you didn't listen to the first one."

Don raised his voice again. "Well, message decoded, all right? Now stop treating me like I'm five. You say I'm not Dad, well guess what? You aren't him either, so don't try to protect me. I broke the rules, no matter the reasons, and now I gotta deal with the consequences." As Charlie remained silent, Don grabbed his head. "You know what? Even if I did it wrong, I would expect some understanding from you. I don't know, maybe a 'Thank you.'"

_Was that a joke?_ "A 'thank you.' You were expecting a 'thank you,'" Charlie repeated, and he joined his palms. "Don, I can't thank you when you're going to lose your job because of me."

"It's only temporary, they won't find anything to keep me out. This wasn't your fault, Charlie. I took the risk." Don took a deep breath. "Anyway… We still have a case, so…"

"Yeah." Watching the desperation pass through his brother's eyes, Charlie put a hand on his shoulder and patted it. "C'mon, let's go." He and Don got out of the office only to find Megan and Larry already waiting for them outside. As they walked towards the war room, Charlie asked, "What did McGowan want with you?"

"He says that I'm going to be in charge when Don gets suspended… I don't know… I really don't know." Judging from the way she rubbed her palms, it seemed that she didn't want to take the lead.

Charlie was a bit relieved. He knew that his brother wouldn't have chosen anyone else to fill his spot, if he'd been given the chance. "Okay… We gotta take care of our first priorities. Where are David and Colby?"

"We told them to get to Farrow's house in Arizona, where we lost contact with Ian," Don muttered, obviously trying to hold himself together for the rest of the case.

Worried about him, Charlie continued, "Okay, so that's done. There's nothing we can do but wait for any leads they can find."

Megan had her own analysis, too. "It makes perfect sense that Sergio's the intruder, as he's the closest person to Farrow that we know of. Now, I'm impressed that he hasn't developed any kind of bond between Farrow and him. He's got to be completely detached to ruin the life of someone who's given him a job, food and all kinds of privileges for years."

"You think he could turn his back on the cult?"

She shook her head. "I think we could still have a chance, but it'd be a very small one, considering he's come this far."

"And we still have no clue where Farrow's friend, Lillian Fisher, is," Don concluded.

When they entered the war room, Charlie noticed how Megan caressed Larry's shoulder and realized that he was in much pain. "Larry…"

But Don spoke first. "I'm sorry, Larry… for everything I've said so far about Farrow. You were right." He walked over to the physicist and put a hand on his other shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Thoughtful, Larry had the same look on his face he'd had when Megan had been kidnapped by Crystal Hoyle two years ago. "To be honest, I'm not. Given the state of Richard Peyton when we got to that house, I think we have enough evidence to be very encouraging."

"We'll bring him home, I promise…" Don assured him. After Larry nodded, he turned to the main computer and sat down at its desk. "What do we have that we can work on?"

"A new and more detailed psychological profile," Megan said. "I'm gonna get the files," she added, and she left. But before she did, Charlie noticed the sweet, comforting smile she gave to Larry.

Trying to focus, Charlie sat down and took out his laptop from his bag. He connected to the main computer and saw his previous analysis appear on the big screens. He'd been studying the code Dr. Farrow had used to write a note to the owner of a house where the antiques had been buried. According to him, the cult communicated through it, as it was based on Egyptian hieroglyphics, but Charlie hadn't been able to break it yet. "Okay, I gotta try a new algorithm I came up with when we arrived…" He entered his new code and leaned back in the chair. "And now we wait... Not for long, I hope."

Larry remained silent, but rose and started walking in circles around the room. Charlie immediately realized that the wait would seem endless. Everyone was nervous and dealing with their own problems, and even if he had some himself, he had to stay strong.

His cell phone vibrated inside his pocket and he picked up the incoming call. "Hello, this is Charles Eppes…"

"Good morning, Mr. Eppes, this is Dr. Sheridan…"

The rest of the call was almost a monologue. The doctor explained the situation, the date and the time, and the people who should attend. The only thing Charlie could say was "Thank you," and then he hung up. Charlie's entire world had just shattered into pieces.

He layed his cell phone on the desk, beside his laptop, and stared at it for a minute. Don seemed to notice, as he asked, "Charlie, is everything okay?"

Charlie couldn't take his eyes off the little device that had brought more disturbing news. "Dr. Sheridan called. She wants me and David and to attend an appointment to see the lab results… from the paternity test."

"When?"

"In a few days."

The silence that followed only provoked Charlie to sink into the darkness of his own soul. There was an answer, an outcome, written in a piece of paper, or locked inside a doctor's mind. He didn't know how he'd react. He couldn't even define how he felt right now.

"Buddy…" Don said, "It'll be fine."

"You always tell me that."

"That's because I mean it. And I'm usually right, so I think you should listen."

When Charlie lifted his gaze to see him, he found an honest smile on his brother's face. That was all he needed to soothe his aching heart.

Suddenly, the computer beeped and a message appeared on the screen. "I broke the code," Charlie announced, and his fingers danced over the keyboard, demanding the final result to show.

He wasn't expecting this kind of response.

"What?" Don muttered, obviously shocked.

"Oh, my goodness… That can't be true," Larry added.

The decoded message appeared on the screen.

**This is not what we agreed. Tell your bosses I'm doing my part.**

"I'm sorry, Larry, but it seems that someone has been keeping a big secret from you… from everyone," Charlie said.

Now that it was obvious that Dr. Farrow was as linked to the cult as Sergio, there were new factors and variables to take into account, so a new analysis would be needed. He and Don got up as Liz appeared at the door.

"Guys, I've got news," she informed. The missing woman, Lillian Fisher, just called 911."

"She… Okay," Don said before going towards the door. Larry followed him, and he almost ran like his limping was the last thing he cared about.

Swallowing, Charlie turned to the big screen and read the secret message once again. It reminded him of the one Amita had written for him to find her when she was kidnapped by her old boyfriend. That had been the beginning of everything – of their break-up, of life beside Colby.

But now it all could fall apart.

Determined to hold on, Charlie's eyes landed on his cell phone. He reached for it and put it in his pocket again. For now, panicking about the results could wait.

**XxX**


	29. Too Late

**Title:** "Too Late"

**Series:** _In the Arms of the Wicked_, Part 29/36

**Characters:** David, Colby, Don, Megan, Liz, McGowan, Larry, OFC, mention of Charlie/Colby and David/Liz.

**Rating:** T.

**Spoilers:** Season 5.

**Warnings:** None.

**Summary:**A phone call takes David and Colby to the cult's place.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything (characters, situations, etcetera) except my OCs.

**Beta:** The fantastic twins_m0m and the great Lily G.

**VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV**

**In the Arms of the Wicked**

**Part 29****: "Too Late"**

Right after Don's call alerting them to Ian and Farrow's disappearance, both partners were on their way to the archeologist's house. They expected to arrive quickly, since the motel was nearby. As Colby drove their car, David was picking up the last details about the case. "That's all? Okay. Thanks, Liz," he said, and then he closed his phone. "Like Don said earlier, Sergio did the inside job. A friend of Farrow's, Lillian Fisher, fifty-four, red-hair, found out about him and has been trying to tell him to protect himself by leaving those fractions and symbols Larry and Charlie have been working on."

"She's part of the cult, too? Damn, it looks like all of Farrow's closest friends were his worst enemies," Colby said.

"Yeah… Hey, that's the house, isn't it?" David pointed at an old building that was about three hundred meters away.

Colby nodded in approval. "It must be. Let's check it out."

After parking the SUV near the house, they noticed the marks of several vehicles. Holding their guns tightly, both agents stood beside the front door. Colby nodded and David broke in. Alert, they went separate ways. After searching their own area, they both yelled, "Clear!"

"Colby!" David called and in a few seconds Colby was by his side. They were at the door of what seemed to be a dusty library. They entered the room and looked around. "I think we're late." On the lookout, he took out a pair of gloves, put them on and approached the closest table he could see. "Look at that." There was a glass full of strange liquid. He picked it up and smelled it.

"What is it?"

"I don't know, some kind of drink."

Then Colby informed him, "There's some more of it here. It looks like another glass fell to the floor… and I can see some blood."

"How much?" When David followed Colby, he understood what he meant. He fixed his eyes on a spot on the floor and frowned as his partner described the scene.

"Luckily, not enough." Colby was right; there were only a few drops of blood on the floor, certainly not enough to think that Ian or Farrow were dead before they left the house. "So here is where they fought, but how did he get through Ian?"

"Maybe it was that drink. Sergio could have put something in it."

"That makes sense. It'd be the only way," Colby agreed. He rested his hands on his hips and took a deep breath. "What now?"

David got on his knees and looked around. "I don't know, but whoever said the butler story was a cliché didn't know what the hell he was talking about." When his cell phone started ringing, he opened it and saw it was his boss. He put him on speaker phone. "Don, what's up?"

"Lillian Fisher just called 911. Here's her message."

The voice of a worried woman came out of the cell phone.

**Hello? This is Lillian Fisher. No, no, don't tell me ****to calm down. Listen to me. I've got important information that you have to get through to the FBI. One of his agents, Ian Edgerton has been kidnapped along with Dr. Christopher Farrow – yes, the archeologist. Yes, of course it's an emergency! The bloody point is I know where they are. Write this address down and tell the FBI to come here as soon as possible…**

She almost hadn't let the operator talk, and she'd spilled all the data right there and then, adding an address in Phoenix at the end.

"We're on our way," David told him, but Don had another question.

"How's the place there? Describe it to me. What did you find?"

Colby took the lead. "There's some blood on the floor, but not enough to be considered serious. We think Sergio fixed some kind of drink for Ian and Farrow, so he was probably able to subdue them easily."

"Fine, leave everything as it is…"

Megan was the next person who talked. "According to what I'm seeing in these files, it looks like Sergio wouldn't do anything that would put him at risk if it wasn't for money. He's sending money to his family in Spain. They were very poor until two and a half years ago."

Then Liz explained, "That must have been when he started working for the cult. He's been _very_ well paid since then. Maybe too much, even for being a millionaire's butler."

"Yep. He's got two million dollars in his bank account," Charlie added. "The transfer was made by the same collector that booked the salon at the mansion located at the address Lillian gave in her 911 call."

"What about Farrow?" Colby asked.

When Larry spoke, his voice was shaky and unsure. "Unfortunately, I believe that there is an enigmatic component in the way he conducts himself in life and the choices he makes."

Colby looked at David, who shook his head, feeling sorry for Larry.

"I'll send the Phoenix lab to take care of the evidence," Carl's interrupted Don. "Now get to that address. The Phoenix Division will be waiting for you there," he finished, and then the communication was ended.

Looking worried, Colby turned to David and asked, "Okay, that doesn't surprise me that much, but what was all that? It sounds like things are a bit tense there."

"Yeah… I wouldn't blame them. Remember that Farrow is Cameron's_ protégé_. He wanted him on this case in the first place."

"Right… Let's go."

In a minute, they were in their car, on their way to Phoenix. This time, David decided to drive, as Colby seemed to be a lot more tired than him. After a while on the road, his partner yawned and that triggered David's wittiness. "Hold on there, sleeping beauty. We've got a case to take care of."

"Ha, very funny. I'm fine," Colby stated flatly, reaching for his gun to check it.

"I'm just saying… It looks like a certain math professor has kept you up lately."

"That's hilarious, but as far as I know, you should be concerned about a certain female agent you brought a thousand lilies to."

The comment wasn't very funny. "First, it wasn't a thousand. And second, you bug me when it comes to Liz – which, by the way, has nothing to do with anything – but you don't let me ask about Charlie? Call me crazy, but I don't think that's fair," David said, glancing at his partner and barely managing to hold back a smile.

"You wanna know why I do it? You wanna know the truth?" Colby asked, almost daring him. He leaned closer to David and added, "I think you should give Liz a chance - or any other woman for that matter. It'd be good for you… I mean it. Of course, whenever you feel ready."

They looked at each other intensely. David could feel the mutual understanding and the strength of their friendship. He knew that he could always count on the man he had in front of his eyes. "Okay."

In response, Colby nodded and went back to checking his gun. The rest of the trip was very calm and David was grateful for it, considering that they had to concentrate on saving Ian and, maybe, a lot more people.

Once they were back in Phoenix, they got to the location Lillian Fisher had stated in her 911 call. The local FBI was already waiting for them. As agents were getting out of their cars and taking care of the details, a red-headed man that seemed to be in charged approached David and Colby.

"Agent Malcolm Parker, FBI, Phoenix Division," he said. "Cameron and McGowan already updated us. We already have cleared the area. The mansion's outside staff have been moved to a safer place and held for questioning."

"Agent David Sinclair, and this is Agent Colby Granger," David introduced them, and they both shook Parker's hand. "Are you ready?"

The man made a signal to his people and turned around again. "We always are."

David looked at Colby, who cocked his head and took out his gun. "Time to break in."

A minute later, they were entering the mansion, searching through the exterior rooms. Every time they ran into a staff member, they asked them to quietly leave. According to the information provided, one of the main halls had been booked under the name of a well-known art collector.

Quietly and quickly, they came to the door of the big golden hall. Peering in, they saw a crowd wearing masks and formal clothes. Some individuals in the crowd were yelling at each other in an upset manner.

But now wasn't the time to look for the answer. Like Colby had said, it was time to break in.

Reckless, David walked in. "FBI! Hands up, don't you dare move, do you hear me?"

Colby did the same, right behind him, followed by the Phoenix Division. "Hands in the air, hands in the air!"

Most people didn't scream. Only one of the few young members dared to yell, but that was all. As David watched the Phoenix FBI team quickly arrest the cult member, he remembered that some wealthy people were snobs that didn't care about anything that wasn't money, fame or exclusivity. Sometimes, their obsession for those things led them to assist each other in horrible crimes like the one they were involved in now. And Farrow, who apparently had had Ian and everyone else eating from the palm of his hand, was just like them. How could he have fooled them all, including Cameron? How could it be that no one knew that he was a member of the cult?

"David," Colby called him from near the stairs. He signaled David to follow, and with Colby leading the way, they both started walking upstairs.

A long corridor appeared, and they followed it silently, stopping when they heard noises coming from a room just up ahead. There was definitely a fight going on inside. This time David led the way, and with Colby behind him, both stood beside the door, listening.

The sound of a woman's voice came from inside. She was being confronted by someone because of her use of a cell phone. It didn't make much sense until suddenly Ian's voice was heard stating, "You touch her and you're dead."

**XxX**


	30. Traitor Club

**Title:** "Traitor Club"

**Series:** _In the Arms of the Wicked_, Part 30/36

**Characters:** Ian/OMC, David, Colby, OCs.

**Rating:** T.

**Spoilers:** None.

**Warnings:** None.

**Summary:**Ian gets to see how the traitor club works. Who will betray who?

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything (characters, situations, etcetera) except my OCs.

**Beta:** The fantastic twins_m0m and the great Lily G.

**VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV**

**In the Arms of the Wicked**

**Part 30****: "Traitor Club"**

Dragged to a new room, Ian felt his muscles clench. He still hadn't fully recovered from that damn _sangría_ and that pathetic whip. His legs hit the ground as the bodyguard dressed in brown dumped him in the place where apparently someone wanted to keep an eye on them.

Behind him, he could hear Farrow's heavy breathing as another bodyguard made him follow the same path. The third man in brown came in behind him and closed the door.

As soon as they entered the room, a woman dressed in black and wearing a mask looked up at them from a pile of papers. Ian recognized her immediately – the red hair, the moves. It was Lillian, but he didn't say anything, not wanting to raise suspicions.

The third bodyguard left his spot from behind Farrow and went to confront the lady, who he seemed to not recognize. Ian tried to fight his own guard, but his body wasn't responding. Exhausted, he watched how Lillian's mask was thrown to the floor and how she was forced to leave the cell phone on the desk.

"Ma'am…" the tall, muscular man said, grabbing her wrist with one hand and the device with the other. "This is our Leader's personal cell phone." She tried to free herself, but he was obviously much more powerful than her. "Who were you calling?"

As the man started to search through the list of last calls, Sergio opened the door and walked in. Passing Farrow by, he didn't even look at him; Ian sensed a slight bit of regret.

Sergio approached Lillian and with a quick move, he snatched the cell phone from the bodyguard's hand. "I'll take it from here," he told him, then he looked at the woman Farrow used to call his "personal Egyptian goddess." His fingers touched the cell phone, looking for the last call and his eyes suddenly narrowed with anger. "911!"

"You touch her and you're dead." Ian couldn't do anything, he could barely move. Ignoring his words, Sergio cupped Lillian's face roughly, almost hurting her.

"God, no… This is not about her, Sergio! This is about you, me and the Leader!" Farrow suddenly said from behind Ian.

His butler didn't listen; he stepped very close to her face and spoke coldly. "Listen to me. This is not a game." He was squeezing her face in a way more brutal than Ian imagined he would. The person that now stood in front of him, displaying such repressed cruelty, wasn't the same one he'd met as Farrow's butler and friend. "You had to step in, didn't you? You had to ruin everything."

The victim of his anger wasn't afraid at all. In fact, Lillian seemed quite enraged herself. "What, did you think I was just going to let you hurt everyone? I know you, Sergio, and you were never very smart. You've never made long-term plans. You should have thought about the consequences of becoming a traitor!" With that, she pulled herself away from Sergio.

"What did you just…?"

"Lilly! Why the hell did you risk yourself? What on earth are you doing here?" Farrow said, interrupting Sergio.

Very annoyed by Farrow's question, she responded, "What the hell am I doing? I'm saving your bloody ass!"

"Ha, I thought that was my part," Ian commented, remembering his last conversation with Farrow.

Sergio didn't find Ian's comment amusing at all. He came closer to Ian and yelled, "Do you think that's funny?" He was so near that he was spitting into the sniper's face. "Do you honestly believe you…"

"Save me the speech, Sergio," the Leader interrupted him. He strolled in carrying a transparent crystal glass filled with wine. On his hand, his ruby ring glimmered in full display. As soon as he saw Lillian, he snapped, "Oh, well… I certainly wasn't expecting this from you, Lillian…" He walked up to her and slowly ran a hand over her cheek.

That got him a glare from her, as well as an insult. "Bastard, when…"

"Really, aren't you too old to use your mouth like an adolescent? I though that all your work and intellect would have provided you a more complex, elaborated vocabulary. Why can't you just be the kind, old lady next door?" Smiling, the Leader got even closer to her. "I have to admit that you're brave, though. Coming back here after our little chat on the phone wasn't what I had in mind. But then again, stealing antiques from us wasn't your smartest move."

"When the FBI…"

"I should have known that you'd bring trouble into our lovely organization. I should have never asked you to join… But where was that head of mine back then?" Playfully, he caressed her arm.

His ruby ring shone from time to time when light hit it directly. Watching it, watching the man that owned it, Ian couldn't help but answer his question. "Back then, you were selling your cult's antiques in the black market. You haven't stopped since."

With elegant manners, the Leader turned to him. "Ah, of course. I haven't forgotten about you. Agent Edgerton, right?" He went towards the sniper and knelt beside him. Ian hated the way the son of a bitch analyzed his sweaty face from behind his mask with almost admiration. But what really bothered him were his ironic gestures. Unexpectedly, the Leader offered his hand to him. "Nice to meet you…" They stared at each other for a second; the hand didn't retreat. "Aren't you going to shake my hand? See, I haven't forgotten that you don't have much energy right now. But still, it seems to me that you're not a very polite person. Greetings are important, did you know that?" Lazily, he ran a finger over Ian's arm, like he enjoyed the sweat that covered his skin. "Well done on the _sangría_, by the way," he told Sergio, getting up.

Running a hand through his hair, Sergio seemed a bit agitated, probably because Lillian was keeping her eyes on him. He had backed away from the group and now stood beside the cupboard that was on the wall on the other side of the room.

"And you…" It seemed that the Leader had found another person to talk to, which didn't surprise Ian. He was waiting for this moment to come, to hear him talk to Farrow. He wanted to check to see if the archeologist's latest version of the story was true.

Breathing hard, Farrow talked through gritted teeth. "I don't give a damn what you have to say."

_Idiot, do you need to be a showoff right now?_ Ian shook his head, trying to find a way to keep the situation under control. He knew that once Farrow started to go with the flow, he was hard to stop.

The Leader wasn't amused. "I don't think you're in a position to decide whether to hear me or not, Christopher. This is a done deal. I told you to shut that big mouth of yours but no, you had to do things your way. Did you and Lillian have some kind of accident? Because honestly, I'm surprised by your stupidity to keep fighting against me." He took a sip from his glass of wine. "But luckily, that fault can be fixed. If getting rid of Louis and Richard didn't work, then I think we're going to nip the problem in the bud."

"What? No!" Lillian yelled, desperate. She obviously didn't know about Richard.

He turned to Sergio and extended his hand. "Pass me the vodka." The butler took it out of the cupboard and passed it to him. After putting his glass of wine down, the Leader opened the bottle of vodka and drank some. When his eyes finally lay on the desk, he emptied the contents of the vodka bottle over it. When he took out a cigar from his pocket and lighted it, his intentions became clear.

Ian immediately noticed that it wasn't part of the plan, as Sergio said, "What are you going to do?"

The answer was, "Give me my gun."

Sergio walked backwards and stopped before his back hit the cupboard. "No. No. You're going to kill them and then burn the place."

The Leader finally stopped ignoring Sergio. He removed the cigar from his mouth and blew smoke out slowly. "Of course I am. Isn't this scenario obvious enough for you?"

"We were going to get away with the money without killing them!" Sergio yelled. He'd started sweating, and his face was flushed.

"Oh, my God, I've hired an idiot," the Leader grumbled. "The situation has changed! It requires a couple of surprising events. These people have seen too much, just like the stupid witnesses in violent, American movies."

"There's no reason to do this."

"Please, you killed that bodyguard with that bomb, don't talk to me about morals, okay?"

"It was an accident! It wasn't supposed to turn out that way. He was my friend." Sergio's eyes were red. He was definitely losing his nerve, no matter whether he was telling the truth or not.

"Yeah, right. Save it, Sergio." Annoyed, the Leader turned to Ian, turning his back to the butler. But Sergio spoke again.

"You're not going to leave me here, are you?"

"What do you mean?"

"When do we leave?"

There was silence. The Leader then responded, "You mean, when do _I_ leave? Considering that the FBI or the Police will be here soon, I don't have much time." He let more smoke billow out of his mouth. "Are you going to tell me you thought for a moment you were coming with me?"

Sergio was broken. "What?"

"You had your part of the deal. You got your millions and you had your fun out there. Now I'm getting out of this country with the people I trust, and you're not one of them. Is that clear enough, or do I have to write it down for you?"

Trembling, desperate, Sergio swallowed. "No."

The Leader played with his cigar, holding it up in the air, right above the desk covered in vodka. "I don't think so." He turned his back to the butler again, and told the bodyguards, "When the fire starts, we'll get away from here." Finally, he looked at Lillian and Farrow. "Bon Voyage."

Even if he was focused on the cigar the blonde man kept holding up high, Ian didn't miss that Sergio was opening the cupboard again. He was looking for something, and suddenly Ian realized that it was the gun the Leader had asked him for. "Get down!" he yelled right before the shot. Everyone ducked to cover themselves.

The bullet entered the Leader's back and he stumbled a bit until he landed on the desk with his cigar. The desk was instantly on fire.

"FBI! Hands up, now!" David shouted, rushing in with Colby and a group of Phoenix agents behind him.

"Now, now, _now_!"

**XxX**


	31. My Word

**Title:** "My Word"  
**Series:** _In the Arms of the Wicked_, Part 31/36  
**Characters:** Ian/OMC, David, Colby, Don, OCs.  
**Rating:** T.  
**Spoilers:** None.  
**Warnings:** None.  
**Summary:**Ian keeps his word, no matter what.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything (characters, situations, etcetera) except my OCs.  
**Beta:** The fantastic twins_m0m and the great Lily G.

**VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV**

**In the Arms of the Wicked**

**Part 31****: "My Word"**

Agents came in holding their guns tight in what seemed to Ian to be a hallucination. Even if he knew that the drink he'd had couldn't have done this, and even if he knew that everyone would be safe soon, he couldn't stop wishing he'd recover his strength so he could take the lead or at least help the backup team.

Watching the desk burned along with the Leader's dead body, Sergio dropped the gun he had in his hand. He walked backwards until his back hit the cupboard, and then slid over its crystal doors onto the floor. He stared at the fire and the man he'd shot. Ian could see the shadow of regret pass through his eyes.

The bodyguards tried to shoot Colby, but David knocked them down with three accurate bullets. Once she was free from her captors, Lillian ran to Ian and Farrow. She knelt beside the archeologist and cupped his face. "God, are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. Are you?"

"Yes." She looked at who once they'd considered to be their friends and seeing Sergio's blank expression, she took a breath. "Crazy."

"Son of a bitch," Farrow muttered, but he earned a slap from Lillian. "What the hell was that for?"

"That's what you deserve for being an idiot and not getting the damn message I risked my life to send you."

Shaking his head, a little smile appeared on Farrow's lips. He pulled her closer to his body for a short hug before Colby grabbed her arm and suggested she would better go. Instead of following Colby immediately, she first helped Farrow get up, then they walked out together.

"Ian, can you walk?" the archeologist said, looking back before he went through the threshold.

The sniper raised an eyebrow at him. "Just go." With that, he got Farrow and Lillian out of the scene. He needed to catch his breath, to get up, to be the strong man he'd always been. Some substance in a drink wasn't going to beat him, especially when danger was already gone.

Several agents were surrounding Sergio, so he couldn't cause more trouble. One of them had kicked Sergio's gun far away from him. Another picked it up to collect it as evidence.

"Get up," David demanded. When Sergio didn't move, one of the agents keeping an eye on him grabbed his arm and pulled him up. With that, the butler started walking awkwardly; his face was still red and he looked like life had been sucked out of him.

Ian could see tears rolling down his face as he passed by. He could easily figure out what Sergio felt – shame, regret, the loss of an opportunity to make good money, for whatever reasons he had.

"C'mon, I'll give you a hand," Colby said, interrupting Ian's train of thought and kneeling beside him.

"Thanks." Soon, Ian had an arm around Colby's shoulder and they were both walking downstairs with David following.

When they got to the golden hall, he could see the Phoenix FBI team either collecting evidence or interrogating some of the cult members. As they talked to the cult members, they instructed each to remove their mask. He couldn't recognize any of the newly revealed faces as he didn't belong to that elitist circle. However, as Ian and Colby walked outside, Ian noticed that the members were not answering the agents' questions. In fact, they weren't saying a word. They probably trusted their exclusive lawyers to have a couple of legal gadgets to use in their defense.

Outside of the mansion, Colby's cell phone started vibrating. Ian told him to leave him on the street so he could pick up the call. Colby released Ian, nodded, then stepped aside to answer the call. The sniper sat down on the curb, felt cold concrete through his clothes and took a deep breath. He needed to rest, he needed to gain some energy again…

"You, bastard!" he heard Lillian say. When he turned to where her voice had come from, he noticed that she was walking towards the FBI car Sergio had been forced to get into. She opened the car door and threw herself inside, much to Ian's surprise. She was definitely a hot-blooded woman.

"Hey!" David said when he saw her, and he grabbed her arm to pull her out of the car. It wasn't easy; Lillian was in good shape and apparently, she had some moves. With her elbow, she jabbed David's stomach. "Ma'am, this is not worth it!"

She completely ignored him, and kept yelling at Sergio, who was trying to cover himself. "We gave you our trust, we protected you, offered you a job, food, a place to live! This is how you pay us?" She started slapping the butler's body, but David finally pulled her out, grabbing her by her waist. That didn't stop her from yelling once she was outside the car. "You used the extra keys to bury Louis in Chris' property! Then you gave the cult enough data to help them blow up his plane and murder Richard! You killed one of our friends with a bomb! If I could, I'd…!" She made several attempts to get back into the car, but David held her tight.

"No, Lillian, wait… Wait! This is not going to bring Louis nor Richard nor that bodyguard back!" David yelled.

"If I could get my hands on you, you'd see what I'm capable of!" Suddenly, the will to fight left her. She blushed and cried as would any victim of a tragedy.

Without any warning, someone moved toward Ian. When he looked up, he saw Farrow stumbling and trying to sit down by his side. _Not when I'm trying to rest. _He closed his eyes, wishing the archeologist went away, but it was too late.

"I'm so sorry for her, you know," Farrow muttered. "Lillian really got along with Richard. I think there was something going on there, but after all that's happened, I hope not."

They watched David put a hand on her shoulder, trying to make her calm down. Overwhelmed, Ian took his eyes off them and looked up. Only a bit of more smoke was coming out of the room where they'd been. "I don't think it matters what kind of relationship there was between her and Richard. Even if he was only a good friend, it'll still be hard for her to recover from his death."

"Yeah…" Farrow whispered. "I never thought I'd be here like this. I never saw any of it coming… Why couldn't I? I feel like an idiot."

_Feel like one?_ Skeptical, Ian couldn't resist glancing at him. They stared at each other for a second, and Farrow seemed to get the point.

"Fine, I am an idiot. You're right about that." The archeologist took a deep breath. "You know a lot about the unexpected, don't you? I mean, your mother's death wasn't an accident."

Not wanting to remember Marah nor Cameron right now, the sniper didn't answer. He just looked away and tried to focus on the coldness of the street again. He didn't need any bad thoughts right now.

Farrow stated, "You and me… We'd make a good team."

Ian didn't feel like fighting with him anymore. "Well, I won't keep you from living out that fantasy," he responded.

Farrow smiled sadly. "Thanks, that sounds very nice." Ian just sent him a glare. "Okay, I can be your slave and shut up for a while if you want me to."

"Drop it," the sniper warned him. The other man looked up to the sky.

Luckily for Ian, Colby came over to them and said, "Hey, Don wants to talk to you." He gave Ian his cell phone and walked away.

"Don," Ian said.

"Ian! Colby tells me you're okay. Is that right?"

"Yeah… I'm a bit dizzy from something Sergio put in my drink, but that's all…" The sniper didn't want to mention the whipping session he'd been through. No one else had to know about it. "I just need to rest."

"That's really great news… Did you know that Sergio did all this to help his family?"

"No. I guess selling antiques in the black market was more entertaining than working for the money."

On the other side of the line, Don laughed. "We decoded the message Farrow sent to the owner of the house where the last antiques were found. It made it evident that he worked for the cult at some point, but according to Colby, that's not the entire story."

"Yeah, he's mostly clean. The whole explanation will be in my report."

"He's okay, too, isn't he?"

Raising an eyebrow, Ian glanced at the archeologist. "He'll be fine."

"Will I see you around?"

"I don't know. I guess I'll stay in Arizona for a while until I'm completely recovered."

"Okay… Take care, Ian. Bye."

"Bye." After Ian ended the call, he noticed that Farrow was watching him.

"Thank you," the archeologist said.

_Aha_… An idea hit the sniper's brain when his muscles started feeling stronger. "Hey, do you think you'd be able to help me get up?"

Farrow's eyes widened. "Sure, I can try…" Stumbling, he managed to get on his feet, and he offered Ian his hand. "Do you feel at least a bit better?"

"Yeah," Ian assured him, and that was true. As soon as Farrow helped him get up, Ian punched him right in the jaw, surprising him greatly.

Sighing, the archeologist almost fell, but he managed to stay still and face Ian as he covered his mouth with one hand. His bottom lip was bleeding a bit. "What the…!"

"I told you that I'd hit you if lied to me, and I always keep my word."

Shaking his head, Farrow's tongue stuck out a bit to lick the blood from his lip. "I guess you do… I did deserve it anyway, I suppose."

With a smile on his face, Ian looked beyond Farrow, at the crowded scene. Interested citizens, firemen, EMTs and FBI agents were doing their job well. But Ian saw someone else at the scene he wasn't expecting.

"What's he doing here?" he muttered to himself. He couldn't be here. Cameron was under Protective Custody, he couldn't have come all the way from L.A….

"Who?" Farrow said, following Ian's gaze.

Ian looked at him and then back at the spot he'd thought he'd seen Cameron, but he didn't see him anymore. The EAD's image seemed to have faded, or maybe he'd never been there in the first place.

Beside Ian, Farrow ran one hand over his hair and snapped with a teasing tone of voice, "So, what do partners like us do after a mission like this?"

Ian just took a deep breath. _This is not worth it…_

**XxX**


	32. Don't Look Back

**Title:** "Don't Look Back"  
**Series:** _In the Arms of the Wicked_, Part 32/36  
**Characters:** Don, Charlie/Colby, David, Megan/Larry, Liz, McGowan.  
**Rating:** T.  
**Spoilers:** Season 5.  
**Warnings:** None.  
**Summary:**It's Don's time to go.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything (characters, situations, etcetera) except my OCs.  
**Beta:** The fantastic twins_m0m and the great Lily G.

**VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV**

**In the Arms of the Wicked**

**Part 32****: "Don't Look Back"**

The end of the case led to Don's time to leave.

He'd known that it wouldn't be easy, but he didn't realize what it'd feel like until he sat down in the break room alone.

His coffee remained untouched; his body didn't want to respond. He was thinking, almost to the point of meditating – remembering, missing everything already.

He felt stupid, wishing that he could turn back time and not go after Cameron, not track him down like a criminal, and not go to meet with him to try to save his brother.

Don rubbed his forehead. The truth was, if he could actually go back to the moment when everything had started, he'd do exactly the same. It'd turned out that what Charlie had said was right; Don was protective of him, which was fine until he messed up things and risked his job.

Besides, it was obvious that this time Charlie didn't need to be saved.

Almost fifteen years working for the FBI, and this was what he got, a suspension as reward. Not that he hadn't done anything to deserve punishment, but taking away his badge and gun seemed to be a bit over the top. Everyone would support him during the investigation process Carl was going to open. Everything would be all right.

Yes, he just had to see the bright side. Until he could go back to his job, he'd take time for himself. He'd do all the things he hadn't been able to do for years, he'd enjoy the life he'd felt disappear because of his daily duties. He'd spend time with the family, he'd help his dad cook, he'd even do the laundry. It was okay; this suspension was just temporary.

Someone knocked on the door. Lifting his eyes from his coffee, Don saw Megan at the door. "Hey."

"Hey," she said, coming in. There was a shadow, an awkwardness in her eyes. When she sat down, she didn't start talking right away; instead, she entwined her fingers and stared at the table.

Don frowned. "What?"

"You're leaving." Her eyes finally landed on him, worried.

He cocked his head, faked a smile. "C'mon. It's not like you can't do my job."

"I don't know."

"What do you mean?"

"I've been thinking… The last case brought up some issues from my personal life." For a moment, she stopped talking, took a deep breath, and looked down. "I hope you don't mind that I don't feel like sharing exactly what it is…"

She'd always been so private about her life before the FBI. She'd even gotten pissed off at a psychic because he'd seem to guess too much about her past. "No, that's fine…"

"Well… I'm sure I'll be able to handle this. I'm trying to keep my stress level down, and I think I've managed to do it for a couple of hours now, but I don't know how long it'll last."

Slowly, he leaned over the table and put a hand on her shoulder. "If you ever want to talk, I'm here for you," he said. "But I'm sure that, no matter what has happened, you're strong and this will be easy for you. You'll do a great job. There's no one else I'd prefer to lead this team, all right?"

Their eyes met again. She nodded and he squeezed her shoulder gently. But it was time to keep going through the next stage of the process of leaving the only job he thought he'd been made to do, so he got up and grabbed his coffee.

On the way out, Larry asked him to stop. "Larry?"

The physicist joined his palms, starting his sentence a couple of times and then stopping to rephrase. After several attempts, he explained, "Agent McGowan and I just had a random encounter in the corridor and he asked me to bring you a message."

Don took a guess. "He wants to talk to me."

"Yes," Larry responded awkwardly, and tapped his fingers against one another, not wanting to look at Don.

"It's okay, Larry, you can say it."

"Ah… It just doesn't feel right to bring that new contribution to your current state of leaving the past behind and engaging yourself in a completely new routine…"

Larry's awkwardness wouldn't be missed at all. After all, he'd always visited Charlie, and Don would have the chance to see him there often. "Thanks," Don said, patting the physicist's shoulder, and he went out.

Before getting to McGowan's office, he remembered that he'd left his coffee back in the break room. But when he was about to reenter the break room, Larry and Megan's conversation caught his attention. Their backs were towards him, so he could listen to them without them noticing.

"He's frustrated behind those smiles, I can tell," she said as she held Larry's hand.

The words hit Don's heart hard. He obviously couldn't hide anything.

"I don't blame him. Events that provoke a deviation in what we consider being the normal development of our daily life can be difficult to handle."

Megan nodded. "I hope he comes back soon. To be honest, I don't know if I'll be able to keep up."

He held her hands firmly. "Yes, you will. You're a strong, intelligent, independent woman."

"Well, that's because I have a shelter to go back to," she responded, and the let her forehead rest against his.

Sometimes, Don wished he could have someone to turn to, like what they had. He probably wouldn't miss the ivory tower thing they shared, but he would like at least a taste of their faith in each other and their constant, mutual supportiveness.

He didn't need the coffee. He didn't want to interrupt the lovers' little moment. So Don walked back down the corridor, getting ready for whatever may come.

Open minded, he entered Carl's office and flashes of the moment he'd broken into his computer with Amita's help came back. Remembering that someone had interrupted their call, she'd probably gotten in trouble. However, right now, Don had more important things to do than worrying about her.

"Don," Carl said very seriously as Don walked opened the door. Then Carl pointed at the chair beside his desk.

Don took the seat and sat down straight. "Carl."

The older agent rubbed his palms slowly, Don following every caress. "You realize that the last case has come to an end."

"Yeah, I do," Don responded firmly. He'd have an answer for every punch.

"Then you know what to do. When you finish, tell your brother I want to see him, too."

The India case tapes had resurfaced. He'd have to let it be this time. "Sure." Focused, Don got up and walked towards the door. But before going through the threshold, he turned around. "Who knows? Maybe I'll be lucky." He was coming out when he heard Carl's voice for the last time today.

"I think you will."

As he walked out, he let himself smile at the irony of FBI jobs. Of course Carl had to follow his footsteps, do research on him, judge him, warn him, making him see what Don done wrong. It was what he'd been hired to. But that didn't mean he didn't have his own opinion on the matters he had in his hands.

Don's desk seemed so empty after he cleared it from knickknacks and pens. He hadn't brought many things there over the years, now that he noticed it. But he'd miss sitting here and looking at criminals' profiles. He'd miss setting up operations, tying facts together and hearing Charlie talk about a kind of math he couldn't understand. He'd miss being part of something big for a while.

It wasn't like the memories were going to suddenly fade away, but maybe it was also the right moment to see what he could do besides work for the FBI. So Don got up and went to look for his brother, telling himself that everything that was happening would be for the best.

It wasn't hard to find Charlie. He was near the elevator, standing there straight and serious – grey suit, shiny shoes. Leaving his box on his desk, Don approached him. "What's with the looks, buddy?" He suddenly remembered what was going on. "Waiting for Colby, huh?"

His brother blushed at the comment and nodded, rubbing his hands.

"Look at you, you're so nervous," Don said, trying to laugh. "Why don't you go down and wait for him there?"

"I think that would only make me more nervous," Charlie answered, now rubbing the back of his head.

Don hated to have to ruin the wait. For a moment, he understood what Larry had said about delivering bad news. "Charlie… Carl wants to see you."

Charlie looked up, his eyes widening. "The tapes?"

"I don't know…" Don couldn't lie. "I think so." He saw his brother take a deep breath.

"Okay… Let's see what he's got to say."

The way Charlie left his spot beside the elevator made Don very proud of him. Charlie was determined, focused to make his relationship with Colby worked. That was his brother; that was the Charlie Eppes Don knew.

He watched him walk to the corridor and then disappear. And that was when the elevator doors opened. "Hey!" Don greeted his agents – or former agents – when he turned around.

Smiling, Colby shook his hand. "Hi, Don."

David came from behind him and offered his hand.

"Welcome home, guys," Don said. "You both did a great job… Where's Ian by the way?"

Colby looked at David, who glanced at him. "He decided to stay in Arizona for a while to rest from the ride that guy Farrow gave him. He refused to come with us… He must have a lot of work."

"Yeah, but it's still… weird," Don said.

"Yeah, but you know he's not much of a sharer."

"I guess…"

"Anyway, we'll work on the report as soon as possible," Colby informed his boss.

But Don hadn't told them yet. "Sure… but you'll have to give it to Megan, she's in charge now."

Colby immediately laughed, and David snorted. However, when Megan and Larry came towards them, not looking exactly happy, all happiness erased from the partners' faces.

"What? Isn't that a joke?" Colby asked.

Larry bit his lip. "I'm afraid that the fun of the phrase was taken away by the power of reality."

Shaking his head, David turned to his boss. "Don… You're leaving?"

There was no answer.

"What happened?"

"He tracked EAD Cameron down…" Megan explained.

David definitely couldn't believe what he'd heard. Stepping closer to Don, he said, "You did _what_?"

Looking perplexed, Colby seemed to be out of words. He lifted his hand, asking for a time out. "Nah, hold on a minute. That can't be true. According to what we know, he was under Protective Custody, so you aren't allowed to… Ah, but Charlie, David, the tapes…" He stopped talking and put his hands on his hips as he lowered his head. "Damn, Don."

"Are you out of your mind, man?" David told Don, putting a hand on his shoulder. "I'm not talking about me and the tapes here. I'm talking about you and your job. Was that the plan you had, the one you told me about?"

Don remembered their conversation a few days ago when he'd told David that he had a plan. The fight the two of them had had seemed to have taken place a million years ago. "Yeah… I mean, I wanted to help but sometimes things just go wrong…" he said, trying to sound funny. But he didn't get any laughs. Not even a little smile.

"What you did was crazy," Colby muttered.

Overwhelmed, Don could only take a deep breath and try to take things easy. Confidently, he went to get the box he'd left on his desk. When he joined the rest again, he explained, "It was… but it's too late to do anything about it," he responded, a sad smile spreading over his lips.

It was time to say goodbye, at least at the office. He wouldn't be allowed to come back for a while, he'd be banned from the cases. But he'd survive. "So… I think I should get going…" Don turned to Colby. "Maybe you should wait for Charlie, he's talking to Carl and…"

The doors to the corridor opened, and Charlie was suddenly coming towards them. His steps were steady, his cheeks were red and his lips were tense. Don could see fire in his eyes. His brother seemed to be determined to do one thing and one thing only – uncover the truth.

**XxX**


	33. Side by Side

**Title:** "Side by Side"  
**Series:** _In the Arms of the Wicked_, Part 33/36  
**Characters:** Charlie/Colby, McGowan, Don, Megan, Larry, Liz, David.  
**Rating:** T.  
**Spoilers:** Season 5.  
**Warnings:** None.  
**Summary:**Some secrets can't last for long.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything (characters, situations, etcetera) except my OCs.  
**Beta:** The fantastic twins_m0m and the great Lily G.

**VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV**

**In the Arms of the Wicked**

**Part 33****: "Side by Side"**

"Professor, please. Come in," McGowan said when Charlie knocked on his door.

Reckless, Charlie still had Colby in his mind, but he remembered well the melancholic look on his brother's face when they'd talked near the elevator. McGowan would have to hear him; he wasn't going to just sit down and hear a speech. "Don did what he did for me. He thought it would be better for the team if…"

"Let's not try to cover the fact that he made the wrong choice, all right? We both know he knew exactly what he was doing," McGowan interrupted him. "But I didn't call you to talk about Don."

"Then what is it?" It was hard for Charlie to control his anger. If he could, he'd tell him exactly what was in his heart. Deep down inside, he wished he hadn't gotten mad at his brother and had told him what decision he and Colby had made. It would have avoided the current events from happening.

McGowan's fingers reached for the keyboard and entered a command. Then the man leaned on his chair, joined his palms and focused on the sounds that were filling the room.

Charlie's voice came up.

"_Don't you like it when I kiss you?" _

He swallowed when Colby's voice followed.

"_Yeah, of course I do, it's just that..." _

"_When I kiss you like this… or… like this?"_

It was obvious what this audio had come from.

"_I still owe you so much for what I did…"_

"_You… you don't… owe me anything…" _

"_Oh, yes, I do…" _

The garage. One of Amita's tapes of Charlie and Colby before she went crazy.

"_It's just that your Dad and Don are up there, you know…"_

"_I see…But they're asleep…"_

"_Yeah, but still… they could hear us…"_

"_Hear _you_, you mean…"_

"Stop it," Charlie said, but McGowan didn't move. His voice was still in the air…

"_Yes, just relax, Colby… This is good. This is what you want, this is what I want… What's wrong with that?" _

"Stop it," he repeated, closing his eyes and swallowing hard. And the sounds stopped. When Charlie opened his eyes, he found McGowan's serious expression turned into stone.

"I think that's enough of an explanation as to why you're here."

Charlie had to admit that it was. "Yes." He and McGowan locked eyes, but the other man's words took him by surprise.

"Secrets are risks."

There was silence between them. There was nothing left to say. Charlie knew what he had to do, he knew what McGowan was telling him. But the strangest thing was that he was getting advice from someone who had hunted him and his brother down for weeks.

"Tell Agent Sinclair that I'd like to see him, please," McGowan finished.

As a heavy feeling filled his heart, Charlie turned around and came out of the office. McGowan was right. Just looking at Farrow's life, his every secret had turned out to be a way for others to hurt him and the ones around him. Not that Farrow was completely innocent, but he also wasn't guilty of all the damage that had been done.

Determined, he went back to his spot beside the elevator. However, as soon as he saw its door, he found that David and Colby had already arrived and were getting the news about Don's suspension. He walked towards them with only one decision in mind, and as soon as he was close, he urged Colby to follow him.

"I need to talk to you." It wasn't what he'd planned to say before. But after his little meeting with McGowan, his mental schedule had changed and accelerated.

Colby's eyes widened. "Well, hello, Charlie… Wait…"

"Now. Follow me, please," Charlie insisted, and he turned to David for a second. "McGowan wants to see you in his office. Don, please, wait for me before you go." Then he dragged Colby to the place where they'd talked the last time – the gun locker room.

He waited for an agent to leave before starting to think about how to bring the subject up. Every time he got an idea, Colby's possible reactions made him remain quiet. He couldn't stop rubbing his palms.

Colby was obviously as nervous as him. "Charlie, why are you acting like this? It's weird…"

Not even with that, did Charlie answer.

"Okay, what is it? I thought you'd kiss me to welcome me after the case was over, but apparently that's not the plan."

Charlie looked up into his lover's eyes and realized that he was scaring him. That was the last thing he wanted to do. This should be easier; after all, they'd talked about it already…

Still in fear, he walked over to Colby and put both hands on his shoulders. He took a deep breath before saying what was on his mind. "McGowan knows what was on the tapes."

"Well…" Colby muttered, and Charlie feared what he was going to say. "It doesn't surprise me. Cameron suspended Don because he tried to talk to him about them, and McGowan works for him, so he'd get to listen to them eventually."

That wasn't that bad, but maybe Colby didn't have all the data. "He heard us… when we were in my garage the last time. Do you remember?"

For a moment, Colby seemed to flinch, but he landed his hands on Charlie's hip and said, "Yeah… I do."

He wasn't getting the point. Charlie stepped aside, folded his arms and walked around. "He _knows_." He could hear Colby's voice behind him.

"Yes, Charlie, McGowan knows. So what? We've talked about this, about people finding out. This is just the first step."

This was suddenly so hard. As much as Charlie had thought that Colby would refuse to talk about it, it was actually him who found it odd. He remembered well that the subject had been previously discussed and that he and his lover had agreed that it was okay for people to know. But they'd never decided anything on the dates. Now, it seemed to be too rushed, too soon.

Colby's large palms were suddenly on his back, massaging him softly. Charlie closed his eyes, feeling their warmth through the several layers of clothing and turned to face him. "I think we should tell everyone."

"But you just said…" The other man seemed a bit surprised. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." Charlie nodded frantically. "Yes. McGowan is right about one thing – secrets mean risks."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I don't want anything to happen to you. I don't want to get into a case of you – or me – getting blackmailed because of our secret."

"I see," Colby whispered, but he remained serious. "Have you checked those exceptions to the FBI view on same-sex relationships?"

Charlie remembered that the issue had come up in their last talk at the restaurant, before Farrow's jet was blown up. That time, Colby had mentioned that the FBI was a lot more permissive on gay relationships than in earlier years, and Charlie had stated that he would research any kind of exceptions that could damage their careers and their lives. But with Farrow's case and the news about the paternity results being available soon, it had been impossible for him to even think about it.

Colby cocked his head, cupped Charlie's face. "Hey… Have you checked them?" he repeated.

They locked eyes. "No."

The green-eyed man took a deep breath. "Okay." He pulled Charlie into his arms, keeping him warm and safe. "It'll be all right. We'll be fine. We don't have to hide anymore, which is good. No more secrets, nor risks."

"I know," Charlie whispered, nibbling the crook of his lover's neck and breathing in his scent. "Let's do it."

"All right."

Feeling sure of what he and Colby were going to do, they walked out of the gun locker room and went back to the elevator doors. Near the cubicles, they saw that Liz, Megan and Larry were talking to Don.

"We're going to miss you," Liz said, smiling sadly and massaging Don's shoulder.

"Nah, Megan will be a great boss," he assured.

Megan shook her head. "It'll be hard to fill in those shoes, but I'll do my best…"

"You will or you and I will have a serious talk when I'm back," Don responded, and his eyes landed on Charlie and Colby. "Oh, hey, guys. I was leaving…"

"Not before we do this," Charlie stated, standing beside his brother and gesturing Colby to come closer, too. They'd do this side by side. "People," he called the FBI agents and employees that were working. "Please, I need your attention, please."

Slowly, people interrupted their daily tasks and stood in their places to hear what Charlie had to say. They were probably expecting a new case had developed, but the news would be a lot more shocking.

When he noticed that he was the center of attention, Charlie glanced at Colby one more time and watched him nod. Then he turned to his brother, his friends and his colleagues. "There's something you need to know. Something that's been going on for a few months now." He felt Colby's hand on his shoulder, supporting him, and that gave him the energy to continue. "Agent Granger, who is by my side, and I…" Everyone's eyes were on him, but he swallowed and announced, "He and I, we are partners."

There were glances all over the place. Don's eyes widened, while Liz and Megan opened their mouths. Definitely, none of them were expecting Charlie and Colby to decide to come out now. But Larry just smiled, satisfied with the outcome.

"We are… together... as in a relationship," Colby added.

There wasn't the need to explain more. People had obviously gotten the idea, as some of them were staring at them, astonished, and others were shaking their heads. However, a few didn't react at all – could they know already?

Charlie didn't really care. When he turned to his brother again, Don was smiling; so were Larry, Megan and Liz. That was all the understanding he needed. They obviously knew about him and Charlie, but having them there, right in that moment, supporting him, was more than enough to make him not care about what anyone else would say.

Colby offered his hand and Charlie accepted it immediately. "Let's go."

They went towards the elevator, called it and waited for its doors to open. Holding each other's hands had never before provided such strong feelings to Charlie's heart. He felt safe, protected. This had been the right decision to make.

But Charlie had forgotten about something, and now it was the perfect time to remember it. He looked at the people who were still looking at them from inside. Some of them were holding their files and papers, like they couldn't believe what they'd heard.

Maybe it was the time to give them proof, as well as to show Colby how much he wanted him. So Charlie put his hands on the back of his lover's face and pulled him down for a bruising kiss. He'd wanted to do it for so long now. Colby deserved that and more for solving the case and returning home safe, much to Charlie's happiness.

The kiss was short but more than enough to make Colby blush. Even if Charlie was blushing, too, he was more focused on the way his lover's breaths were slower, calmer. "That was your welcome home kiss," he muttered, close to Colby's mouth.

Colby looked back into his eyes and smiled. He guided him into the elevator and then pulled Charlie up for a little kiss near the corner of his mouth.

Everyone was still staring at them and coming up with stories about how they could have gotten together. But as the elevator doors closed, Charlie didn't care. He didn't care what happened as long as he could continue to take his lover's breath away.

**XxX**


	34. Father

**Title:** "Father"  
**Series:** _In the Arms of the Wicked_, Part 34/36  
**Characters:** Colby/Charlie, Alan, Don, David, Liz, OFC.  
**Rating:** T.  
**Spoilers:** None.  
**Warnings:** None.  
**Summary:**Who is the father of Amita's child?  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything (characters, situations, etcetera) except my OCs.  
**Beta:** The fantastic twins_m0m and the great Lily G.

**VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV**

**In the Arms of the Wicked**

**Part 34****: "Father"**

The days went by too fast. People kept talking, coming up with ideas. Colby didn't really pay attention to them; something was keeping his mind busy enough.

When the date of the appointment at the medical center arrived, he felt numb. What if Amita's child was Charlie's? What would he do? He wasn't ready to raise a kid; neither of them was.

They hadn't avoided conversations about it. During the last week, they'd touched the subject a few times. They'd talked about what would happen if the baby turned out to be Charlie's and they had to take care of him or her. But their assumptions and ideas always seemed to be incomplete. A kid coming into their lives would change everything, and they still had so much to learn about each other. They still had to learn to live as a couple, to understand about what they felt.

Now, conversations didn't matter much. It was time to find out the answer.

Colby rang the bell at the Eppes house and waited. Breathing hard, he wondered what Charlie's family would say. They'd had a lot going on, with Don's suspension and Charlie's possible fatherhood.

Soon, the door opened and Alan offered Colby his hand. "Hello, Colby. Please, come in."

"Good morning, Mr. Eppes… How's your heart?"

"I gotta take life easy, rest, do some exercise, take my pills and see my doctor frequently."

That didn't sound so good. "Will you be okay with… you know… _this_?"

Alan nodded. "I'll be okay. Besides, it's my son who we're talking about here, I have to be there." He was very serious when he gestured Colby to sit down. "Come in, please. I want to tell you what I told my son an hour ago."

"What was that?" Colby muttered as he sat down. The situation was a bit uncomfortable for him.

"I told him that no matter what, he has you."

The words hit Colby's heart hard. He'd been repeating those words to his lover during the last days, without getting any results. He'd known for long time that Alan was okay with his relationship with Charlie, but hearing him say this was very touching.

"After all, you told the FBI that you are together," Alan continued. "That means something."

"Yeah, it does." Colby rubbed the back of his head and added, "I care about Charlie a lot. I'm all in." He got a sweet smile from Alan.

"Then everything will be all right."

Smiling back, Colby watched him get up. "Thanks."

"For what? I'm just telling the truth," the older man stated, and winked. Then he grabbed his jacket, which was over the next couch. "Donnie, hurry up! You got up at five today, shouldn't you be awake?"

Don had been up since five a.m.? The idea of him not working still managed to affect Colby. He wondered what kind of collateral effects that could have on his former boss.

"Coming!" Don yelled from the kitchen. When he came in, he greeted Colby by raising the cup of coffee he was drinking. "Hey, I use to get loads of this stuff at the office. It's not like I can suddenly quit."

Colby grinned, trying to keep up with Don's optimism, but it was strange that he was taking his suspension so well. He'd always been a man of action, and leaving a job that had absorbed most of his time, efforts and thoughts couldn't be easy. But then again, he was probably doing this to not add more drama to the current situation. Charlie was in the spotlight today, and he didn't need any extra stress.

"Where's your brother?" Alan asked, and Don was about to respond when Charlie's voice came up.

"I'm here, Dad."

There was no smile on his face, like Colby expected. "Shall we go?"

Nodding, Charlie walked down the stairs and avoided talking to him as he grabbed his coat. Colby didn't push. It was neither the right time nor the place. He tried to remember Alan's advice, to just be there for the one he loved, and stand by him whatever came along.

They all came out of the house and split into two groups for the ride to the medical center. Don drove his car with Alan by his side, and Colby drove his, accompanied by Charlie. Colby didn't ask any questions, and once they arrived at the hospital, he didn't even tried to touch him.

Once they found the doctor's office, they saw David seated down on a chair in front of the door. He looked seriously broken. He had bags under his eyes and he was messily dressed. Don put a hand on David's shoulder, and Alan sat in another chair. Colby just hoped he hadn't been drinking, like he used to do. He couldn't stand to see him like that.

He noticed that Charlie had stopped in his tracks when he'd noticed David, and that for a moment, they'd locked eyes. Charlie walked towards David, and then sat on the next chair. Colby stood up beside his lover, resting his back on the wall, wondering how everything would turn out and which outcome would be the worst.

The door suddenly opened. "Charles Eppes, David Sinclair," a dark-haired woman with glasses and a white lab coat called. The two men hesitated but then got up. She nodded as they went into her office, and finally closed the door.

They were gone. They were gone, about to find out how their lives would change forever, and Colby was out. He couldn't be there at the exact moment the mystery was revealed. If Charlie broke, he wouldn't be able to hold his hand, and if David did, Colby wouldn't be able to support him and tell him that everything would be all right.

Where was everyone else? David had asked for only the key people to go to the hospital. Apparently, he didn't want anyone else to see him break if he did. But that didn't mean that no one could come just to support him.

Just as he was wondering why no one had showed up, he heard footsteps coming towards him, and noticed Alan raising his eyebrows. "Hello," Charlie's father said, and when Colby followed his gaze, he saw a worried woman coming closer.

"Hello. Are you David's friends?"

Colby nodded and offered a chair to her. "Yeah. I suppose you're his sister. He told us you were coming."

"I'm glad," she said, shaking his hand and then everyone else's. Then she took the seat Colby had offered her and started rubbing her palms anxiously.

But that wasn't the only visitor David would get. Someone was running towards Colby and the rest. It was Liz. "Are they in already?" she yelled when she was almost at the doctor's door.

To Colby, it was so good to see all the important people there. He knew that Liz worried about David, but seeing her flushed and sweating from trying to get to the hospital in time was heart-wrenching.

Don rubbed his forehead and responded, "Yep, they're in and we're here, waiting."

Shaking her head, Liz sat down and tried to catch her breath. "Damn, I would have liked to talk to him first… I'm not sure what I would have said, but…" Her eyes landed on David's sister and she offered her hand to her. "Sorry, I hadn't seen you… I'm Liz Warner, one of David's colleagues."

"Jay Sinclair," the other woman introduced herself, accepting Liz's hand. Then they joined the rest of the group waiting for the news.

Colby could barely concentrate on them, though. People came and went – nurses, doctors, patients, relatives – and it was hard for him to think of anything but the noises and the hard beating of his heart. The sound of blood flowing pounded in his ears as he got more and more nervous. All his previous conversations with Charlie swirled in his mind, dragging him away from the moment.

"_What if it's mine?" his lover had said once as he took off his socks beside the bed. Then he'd thrown them onto the floor with anger._

_From b__etween the sheets, Colby had tried to assure him that he'd help him face what may come. "Charlie, calm down… You're not alone."  
_

"_I know, but I'm not ready to have a kid! I'll never be ready!" _

Those had been Charlie's exact words, and even now, Colby couldn't really figure out what they meant. His lover had never shared his exact feelings, though he'd stated over and over again that he really didn't want Amita's child to be his.

The memory of that night disappeared as Charlie and David came out of the doctor's office and the door closed behind them. Equally affected, they stared at the floor, not paying attention to anyone. The stress had to be that tough.

Charlie took a deep breath and David looked up with the eyes of a desperate man.

There it was, the answer Colby was expecting. It wasn't his lover who would have a child, it was his partner, and how could someone deal with a child born from a rape?

David looked around and found his sister. She went towards him and hugged him like it was the last thing she'd do in her life. They started walking out together, and after Liz patted Charlie's shoulder, she followed David and Jay.

"Hey, buddy… There's nothing to worry about, after all," Don muttered, leaning over to give his brother a short hug. Charlie didn't react.

Alan suggested to Charlie that he should sit down and he did. Then Alan said something about going to get some coffee with Don, but again, Colby wasn't paying much attention. He didn't even hear Don and Alan's footsteps as they left. He was completely into what Charlie could be feeling right now. His lover's hands were resting on his thighs, and his body seemed to have lost all energy as it sat languidly on the chair.

"Charlie," Colby muttered, being careful about asking any specific questions. He felt that it was better for the kid not to be crazy Bob Berenson's son or daughter, though.

The other man's gaze remained fixed on the doctor's door. "I feel so… relieved… and I shouldn't… I mean, I'm just thinking… I wouldn't have been able to raise a kid. Not now… not ever."

There it was, the same conversation again. However, there was no rage this time. "Don't say that."

"Don, he could always connect with kids. Me… I was never good at anything related to them. I can't even babysit…"

So that was where all his fears were coming from. Colby didn't know how to make his lover's sadness go away.

Charlie turned to face the end of the corridor. There, David was holding Liz as tight as possible, hiding his face on the crook of her neck. Beside them, his sister couldn't stop crying at the news. "Do you think he'll be able to take it?"

It was a hard question to answer. There was only one thing Colby could say about it, though. Looking in the same direction as his lover, he took a deep breath. "I'm not sure, but I know him and he's strong," he muttered. "I think he'll be a good dad… and so will you someday, if you really want to."

He was counting on his words to make Charlie turn back to him. But when the mathematician reached out for him and embraced him, he could understand all the feelings that were going through Charlie.

He couldn't do anything but reciprocate. Sometimes, a warm, soft hug was all that was needed, especially in moments like these, when one perspective of a new life faded away as another was born.

**XxX**


	35. In My Nature

**Title:** "In my Nature"  
**Series:** _In the Arms of the Wicked_, Part 35/36  
**Characters:** Ian/OMC, OCs.  
**Rating:** T.  
**Spoilers:** None.  
**Warnings:** None.  
**Summary:**It was his nature to be a loner, to be a nomad, to not let anybody really know who he was.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything (characters, situations, etcetera) except my OCs.  
**Beta:** The fantastic twins_m0m and the great Lily G.

**VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV**

**In the Arms of the Wicked**

**Part 35****: "In my Nature"**

There had been too many deaths. Dealing with the disappearance of people who were trying to do the right thing was what Ian hated the most about his job. Not even his rifle would have been able to fix it. This time he hadn't been the one who'd pulled the trigger, but his presence at Farrow's house had definitely pushed some buttons.

It was his nature to be a loner, to be a nomad, to not let anybody really know who he was. He couldn't let people see the guilt; he'd learned to make his skin think.

Lying on his bed, he wondered why he hadn't left Arizona yet. The room was ugly and cheap and he hadn't talked to anyone since he'd told David and Colby goodbye at the Phoenix mansion. He hadn't even started his report, nor answered the calls coming from work.

Ian rested one hand on the sheets, the other one on his forehead. His luggage was all done, everything was packed and ready. Nothing was holding him back. Nothing except this feeling that something was going to happen. He had the hunch that his staying should last for a few more hours at least.

His cell pone went off. Ian knew it was beside him, on the nightstand, moving to the rhythm of a soft vibration. It broke the balance of his meditation. Ian's heart ached inside his chest as all the emotions started to hit him together. It wasn't supposed to be like this. It just wasn't.

Trying to get his mind away from them, he reached out for his phone and saw who was bothering him now. It didn't mean that he was going to answer. But he ended up sitting up on the bed. There was no reason to get such a call. But his hunch, mixed with the pain he felt, told him to go for it, and he did.

"Edgerton," he responded. There was silence coming from the other side of the line. Still, he waited.

"Ian… um… It's…"

"Farrow, I know," he told him, with no energy to play games or even to be sarcastic. Again, the other man took his time to tell him what was going on, so Ian asked, "What's up?" as if he didn't really care. It was so weird that they were talking after a case in which they hadn't been able to get along. Hell, it made no sense, since Ian had hit him right in the face.

But Farrow was still there. "I was wondering if you'd like to… you know… meet."

"For what?" Ian had to know the excuse.

"I don't know. Just because…" It seemed that the archeologist wasn't saying everything he wanted to say, as he took a deep breath. He sounded tired and even depressed. "Look, the truth is that I'm burying Louis today."

So that was it. "I see."

"Yeah. I'm taking him down to his grave again. According to the autopsy, the body was protected by the plastic bag, and it really means a lot to his family that his remains stay in Arizona, exactly where they were," Farrow explained.

"And… you want me to be there."

Farrow took another big breath. "Yeah… I mean, why not? If you want to come, of course… and if it's not too weird for you. We don't even have to talk to each other. I'd just like some company, since my bodyguards are away taking a break after their pal's death and Lily is in L.A. taking care of Richard's funeral. I'm going to be in…"

The address was fine, but... "I'm sorry. I'm heading off to L.A., too. More murderers and thieves to catch."

"Ah… sure. Then forget that I called. I guess I'll… see you around."

"I guess."

"Thanks for everything you've done for us."

"There's no need to thank. It's my job." And with that, Ian ended the call.

He lay back down on the bed, thinking. He had no need to see Farrow. It wouldn't mean anything if he never ran into him again. But he knew what it was like to be alone during a funeral. It had been one of the toughest experiences in Ian's life.

A parent's death wasn't the same as a lover's. The kind of pain was simply different. Yet no one, not even Farrow, deserved to go through the loneliness of such a goodbye.

So Ian got up, grabbed his cell phone, his wallet and his jacket. That would be more than enough. He stopped before opening the door. He knew that what he was about to do wasn't rational to him, but his heart was in command now.

He opened the door, went through the threshold and closed it. It wasn't that bad, and after telling the host that he didn't know what time he'd be back, it really felt like the right thing to do.

The rented car wasn't expensive. Soon, Ian was at the cemetery but he didn't want to look at it; too many memories were coming up.

He had to be strong. He was strong. Trying to stay calm, he told himself that this wouldn't be Marah's tomb, and that there was nothing to fear. Slowly, one step after another, he entered the cemetery.

A sniper shouldn't be uncomfortable around funerals, but Ian was. The image of memorials, names carved in stone and flowers laying over them – some fresh, some dried – was a lot for him to bear, but he made his way through the graves and finally recognized the figure of the man he was looking for.

As he walked towards him, Ian mapped the spot where Louis Terrence's body would, hopefully, sleep forever. It was a nice place. It was simple and a bit sad, but it had a beautiful tree beside its dusty memorial.

The body had been placed inside of the coffin and it'd been already buried. A priest was beside the grave, opening his Bible and looking at Ian though narrowed eyes. But he never said anything, not even when Ian came closer and Farrow turned to him with obvious surprise.

However, Farrow just smiled and then he leaned to clean his former lover's memorial with a cloth. "Louis Jordan Terrence, beloved son and brother. You will remain in our hearts forever."

Ian noticed how the priest seemed to have found the passage he wanted to read, so he remained serious and joined his hands in a sign of respect. It was odd to see how Farrow put his hands on the pockets of his jacket, but then again, he'd been through this funeral already. After all that had happened, he had to have lost some faith.

"Psalm 37," the priest said, and he started with his reading. Ian didn't listen to the first words, as he kept looking at Louis' memorial and wondering how Farrow seemed to have nothing to do with it. But slowly, the priest's message started to get through. "Commit your way to the Lord; trust that God will act and make your integrity shine like the dawn, your vindication like noonday."

Integrity was too overrated. Ian hadn't taken revenge on his mother's death and he should have. There was no doubt about it.

"Give up your anger, abandon your wrath; do not be provoked; it brings only harm."

How was he supposed to let go his anger if he couldn't do anything to fix things? If he didn't have his rage, then he didn't have anything but suffering and regret.

"The wicked plot against the just and grind their teeth at them; but the Lord laughs at them, knowing their day is coming. Their swords will pierce their own hearts; their bows will be broken. Better the poverty of the just than the great wealth of the wicked. For the arms of the wicked shall be broken, but the Lord will sustain the just."

If there was a God in this world, he better do that at least – protect the good ones from those that hurt others. But that would also mean that he'd have to get rid of Ian as well.

"The salvation of the just is from the Lord, their refuge in time of distress. The Lord helps and rescues them, rescues and saves them from the wicked, because in God they take refuge."

And that only applied to the believers, of course. Ian wasn't one of them. He could hold on to many things – rage, the promise of a new start – but not religion.

The Bible was closed; the priest looked up and nodded. In silence, Farrow shook his hand and thanked him for his reading. It was a bit of a shocking scene for Ian. He would have never imagined that he'd witnesses something like this. He also would have never expected to see the priest nod and smile at him when he passed him by.

Ian let Farrow have his few moments of silence beside his lover's grave. It was the respectful thing to do.

"Thank you," the archeologist finally muttered, turning to him, hands still inside his pockets. "You surprised me."

"To be honest, I surprised myself, too. I didn't think there would be any reason to come," Ian responded, and saw how the other man smiled. "That doesn't mean…"

"I know, I know. But whatever reason you had, I'm glad you found it."

"I was late."

"No problem. I think Louis would have liked to meet you. You two would have gotten along well."

"Mmm." They started walking around the cemetery between the sad trees. There were memorials and rustic tombs around them, but the sun was up in the sky. "There was something about the funeral that made me curious. In Louis' memorial, it says, 'beloved son and brother.' There's nothing that ties him to you there."

Farrow smiled as he looked around. "His family never knew about us being together I didn't think it'd be a good idea to tell them that he was gay, since they don't seem to be the kind of people who'd understand it right away," he explained. "They had enough with knowing that their son had been killed. I took care of everything according to what they wanted. They're very religious people."

"I could see that. The priest's words were interesting, I gotta say," Ian admitted, feeling more at ease with the archeologist now, but that was probably because of the context.

"You know, I've always seen religious tradition as an object of analysis, but I gotta admit that this time there was something different about it, I don't know."

Ian's eyes landed on the ground. "Oddly enough, I understand what you mean."

Looking satisfied with the answer, Farrow stopped walking for a second, and so did Ian. "You don't believe in anything, do you?"

"Not in religion, but… let's just say sometimes you gotta hold on to something." There was silence after the sniper's statement, which he was thankful for.

They continued walking. Farrow folded his arms. "I see… Anyway, I want to thank you again for coming. You took a flight from L.A. to Phoenix again and interrupted your work…"

"No… I was still in Phoenix."

"May I ask why? You seemed pretty eager to get away from here as soon as possible."

"I was. But then again, this place makes you think about things." Ian noticed how Farrow stopped in his tracks again and looked at him. However, he adopted his stoic posture, letting him know that he wasn't willing to talk about personal matters.

"Fine, no questions." Cocking his head, the archeologist continued walking. "But you are leaving soon, aren't you?"

"Of course."

"Then let me buy you a drink before you go."

Again, Ian sent him the glare.

"Okay. No questions _and_ no drinks. But let me show you something."

"What?"

"You gotta follow me. I'm not going to tell you just because, you have to see it."

Grinning, Farrow started walking towards the cemetery exit. He seemed to be pretty excited, and that started to worry Ian. "Fine…" he muttered before following him. He'd have to stay alert; he didn't want any weird surprises.

But this was a nice one. Near to the road, tied to a tree, there was a horse. As soon as he noticed the fine Friesian, Ian couldn't avoid going towards it and running his palm over his beautiful, black head. "Hey, buddy…" He turned to Farrow. "Why did you bring him here? Couldn't you get a normal ride?"

"No, it's nothing like that. I hoped you came, that's all," the archeologist responded, standing beside Ian. "He's yours now."

That was too much, so Ian stepped away from the horse. "I can't keep it. I travel a lot, I live in small places."

Farrow seemed to be very disappointed, but he still said, "Okay… I just thought you'd like his company. He kind of reminds me of you. Besides, he likes you." Lazily, he went to pat his horse's head.

Watching him, Ian had to admit that it was a nice gesture, so he didn't kill all of Farrow's hope. "But you could take care of him while I'm not here."

With that, he got the other man's attention. "You mean…?"

"I could come visit him every once in a while."

There was a smile in the archeologist's face. He nodded, and said, "Okay. That sounds like a good plan… Are you going to talk to Noah?"

If there was something about Farrow that irritated Ian, it was his persistence to ask the wrong personal questions at the worst moment of all. But this would be the last time they would see each other, so there was no need to pick a fight. "I don't think it's in my nature to go back to things… or people, whatsoever."

Farrow walked towards him, looking serious and defiant, just like the first time he'd entered Professor Eppes' office and had started causing trouble. But, he didn't seem to want to fight right now. "Excuse me if I disagree, but I doubt it, considering what you just told me regarding this beauty," he said, pointing at the gorgeous Friesian.

Ian nodded and saw how the other man offered him his hand. They locked eyes as they shook their hands firmly.

"You're a good man, Ian. I think you deserve to be at peace with yourself."

The sniper let go of his hand and nodded as a sign of peace. Then he turned to the road and watched its emptiness. He got into his car and turned on the engine.

It was the right time to walk away.

**XxX**


	36. Epilogue: How to Heal

**Title:** "Epilogue – How to Heal"  
**Series:** _In the Arms of the Wicked_, Part 36/36 (last part of this series!)  
**Characters:** Ian, OMC, OFC.  
**Rating:** T.  
**Spoilers:** None.  
**Warnings:** None.  
**Summary:** It was time for Ian to heal.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything (characters, situations, etcetera) except my OCs.  
**Beta:** The fantastic twins_m0m and the great Lily G.

**VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV**

**In the Arms of the Wicked**

**Part 36****: "Epilogue – How to Heal"**

He made his way into the second cemetery he'd visited in a week. L.A. was as noisy and upsetting as he remembered, nothing like the calm, rustic Arizona landscapes.

It was there and he knew it. He'd refused to see this grave for years, but the last events and feelings he'd been through had made him realize that it was time for him to deal with this and hopefully, heal.

His eyes dampened as he came closer and spotted it. It was necessary for him to take a deep breath before reading the memorial he'd seen on Farrow's laptop screen a few days ago. "Marah Edgerton, beloved mother and wife…"

Just the name managed to break him inside, but he'd never show it. No one needed to see the pain he carried in his heart. He had enough with his own demons to endure other people's opinions.

He was a grown man, a sniper whose rifle and instincts were his best friends. Yet he also had the right and the need to let himself break in peace. No one was there to watch; no one was there to judge.

Looking at the place where his mother's remains rested, he put his hands inside his pockets. Something was there, and it seemed to be some sort of thick piece of paper. Pulling it out of his pocket and looking at it, he saw it was Marah's picture, the one that always appeared in weird – or maybe just the right – moments, the one that didn't want to go away. It was also the one Ian couldn't get rid of, no matter how hard he tried.

She'd been such a wonderful woman. Ian closed his eyes and realized that he could see her just the way she used to be. The smell of wine, the beauty of her horses, the softness of her curls, the strength of her voice. That would never go away. She'd always be beautiful and alive in his head, and right now, for once in his lifetime, that was okay.

A sound wasn't supposed to happen. Ian was sure he was alone. In a reflex, he took out his gun, turned around and knelt beside Marah's grave, waiting to find a thief or a punk that enjoyed attacking people's memories in cemeteries.

The person he saw was the last one he expected to see. Astonished, he lowered his gun. "What are you doing here?"

Noah Cameron took a step forward, standing right in front of him. He looked like hell, but he was as confident and focused as the last time they'd met. "I could ask you the same thing."

Ian breathed hard, not knowing how to react. On one hand, he wanted to walk away. On the other, there was nothing he'd rather do than beating Noah to death.

But he remained where he was, on the fresh grass, silent and playing with the trigger. He was ready to listen and react at any time if things got out of control. Alert, he didn't put away his gun. He just couldn't trust a man who could come out of nowhere. "Weren't you under Protective Custody?"

In response, Noah threw a question at him. "Is that a picture of her?"

When Ian looked down, he realized that he was taking a firm grip on Marah's little photo. He immediately put it back in his pocket, putting an end to that discussion.

Instead, Noah took a deep breath, looked up at the dark sky and finally into the sniper's eyes again. "Ian… we need to talk."

**The End.**

**XxX**

**Author's note:** A huge thank you to everyone who's been reading, it means a lot. You can contact me if you ever want to share your thoughts about this series. You're the best. See you in the next story, folks.

- paranoid_woman (PW)


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